If Only
by Ary-Gryphyn
Summary: What if Harry had two other cousins besides Dudley, and they were his age? What if they were witches, and got invited to Hogwarts? What if they loved him, like a real family should? What if this is all in the story, and you should just read it? So many what if's... R/R Harry Potter re-write
1. Mysterious letters and confusing dad's

**_Chapter One—Mysterious letters and confusing dad's_**

**_ Taylor's P.O.V—_**

* * *

I had just finished reading Romeo and Juliet for the second time this month when I heard my sister scream at the top of her lungs.

"You little shit! Give me that back!" By the tone of her voice and the words she had used, I just _knew_ she was yelling at our younger brother Dudley. Not that that was a rare occasion. They frequently yelled at each other, well, Lexi yelled and Dudley waddled away as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. It was quite funny to be honest.

I was about to put my book away and find another one, when I heard my mother, Petunia Dursley, yelling after Lexi in her shrill horse like voice, that _'little duddy-kinz didn't mean to steal her diary and draw all over it with permanent marker'. _I inwardly scoffed, yeah, and Lexi-kinz didn't _mean_ to push him down the stairs last year. Bullshit. I knew she meant it. Even if she wouldn't admit it, even to me. My sister was _very_ mischievous. Some times I wonder where she got, our mother and father weren't like that at all.

I saw from my spot in the living room, Dudley running in the hallway, and clutched in his chubby hands, a sky blue diary with Lexi's name written across the front. Lexi came shrieking after him, only stopping when Dudley knocked our poor cousin Harry brutally to the floor. When she saw that Harry had gotten knocked to the ground she immediately stopped to a halt and knelt to the ground beside him, forgetting Dudley and her Diary to check to make sure he wasn't injured in any way by Dudley's abnormally large ass. Believe me, he's _got_ to have a health problem or _something._ That thing's just not normal.

Harry was blushing because of the attention, he should have been used to it by now though, its not like he gets it from our mom, dad, or brother, so we made sure to _shower_ him with it.

I put my finished book down, stood up and made my way over to Dudley, who was now reading the book that most likely had plots to kill him in it. And judging by the look on his face, I was right.

Because he was so pre-occupied with reading the book, all I had to do was snatch it out of his hands, and walk over to Lexi and Harry, leaving him most likely crying, and handing my sister her diary, then I knelt down next to Harry.

"You okay? Dudley didn't hurt you?" I asked softly.

He blushed and shook his head mumbling. "No Taylor, I'm fine."

"Good."

Lexi and I helped him up, not noticing our mother's scrunched up face, or that our father Vernon Dursley had just walked in the front door.

"Go make dinner boy," that was my father, Vernon, who had said that, and I glared at him for it,

Our mother and father treated Harry like a slave, which I hated. He made breakfast, lunch and dinner and when our father got a fat food craving, a snack.

I grabbed my book from the living room and made my way upstairs. Sighing softly to myself I opened my door, put my book in my bookshelf, before lying down on my bed, waiting for my sister to come up.

When she finally came to our room I looked at her.

"It's not fair Lexi." She gave me a puzzled look so I continued. "How mom and dad treat Harry, it's not fair."

She sighed and threw herself on the bed. "What are you gonna do."

I sighed now, there was nothing I could do to help Harry, I mean we already do as much as we can, we protect him at school, and at home for the most part.

I looked at my watch, it was time for the post to be here, so I quickly hurried downstairs and got the post quickly looking through them. Bill, bill, bill, letter for Harry, letter for me, letter for Lexi. Wait a minute, I backtracked, a letter for all of us? _This is weird_, I stuffed Lexi, Harry's, and mine in the back of my jeans under my shirt and walked into the kitchen. "Three bills all addressed to Dad", I threw them over the counter at him, earning me a glare, but ignored it and walked out and up to my room, closing the door behind me. "Lexi you wont believe this! Me, you and Harry all got the same letter!" I handed hers to her and put the others on my bed. "Ew, you had them in your pants." She made a disgusted face and I rolled my eyes before turning back to my letter.

I stared down at it excitedly and opened mine but stared in disbelief at what I saw. The outside read:

**_Miss T. Dursley_**

The Second Bedroom 

**_4 Privet Drive_**

Little Whinging

Surrey

While the inside read:

_Hogwarts school Of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss Taylor Dursley,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall, deputy Headmistress_

I looked up at Lexi and she was staring at the letter as if it had jumped up and bit her in the face. We both were startled when there was a knock at the door and a timid voice came through the door. "It's time for dinner." We were pulled out of our thoughts.

I opened the door and Harry was standing there, I quickly looked down the hall before pulling him in and handing him his letter. "Look at this." He opened it and had the same bewildered expression on his face as my sister and I did.

"I think we should show them to Mom and Dad." I said calmly.

"What will they say?" Harry asked.

"Let's find out." I grabbed our letters and pulled Harry and Lexi downstairs with me.

Putting our letters on the table I told my parents."We got these today in the post."

"Let me see them" Dad pulled them towards him and almost choked on the piece of chicken he had just stuffed in his mouth.

"P-P-Petunia, look at these." Dad stuttered, Mom walked over and had the same reaction, minus the almost choking part.

"Well?" Lexi asked impatiently.

"Well, Taylor, Alexis - you can eat your dinner in your room, and you get in the cupboard-" Dad was always so mean to Harry, I hated it. -"And Dudley you can eat in your room as well."

"But I want to know about those letters Dad" I whined at him.

"NO." he snapped. "Get out, all of you" When we didn't move his face turned purple and he snapped at us again.

"NOW!"

I grabbed my plate as did, Dudley and Lexi. I passed by Harry's cupboard, passing some food to him a big smile starting on my face, as I continued up to my bedroom.

Lexi wasn't up there when I arrived so I sat on my bed eating some of my dinner waiting for her to arrive. When she finally came in she was carrying her empty plate.

"You wont believe what I heard through the keyhole Tay!"

I sighed. "Why were you eavesdropping?" I was curious as to why she was eavesdropping, but I still wondered what they said. She ignored my question and continued

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address - how could they possibly know where they all sleep? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching - spying - might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want-"

"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything..."

"But-"

"I'm not having three in the house, Petunia! Especially not my own daughters! Didn't we swear when we took the boy in that we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"

I listened intently. "Well what do we do?" I asked.

"I don't know, I think the conversation is over now, we could go ask them."

I nodded at her reply. "Sounds good, do we bring Harry?" She shook her head.

"How are _we _gonna get him outta that cupboard" I nodded and quietly made our way down the stairs so Dudley wouldn't hear us.

* * *

When we got into the living room, Mom and Dad were lounging watching the fire.

"Where are our letters?"

Dad's head snapped up at the sound of Lexi's voice. "It was a prank, but they're gone now, we burned them."

"WHAT!" We exclaimed in unison.

"Yes, yes there they are." He motioned to the fire and we saw three parchment letters burning. We glared at them and walked back up to our room.

"This sucks!" I commented pulling out some pyjamas from my dresser.

"I know, that was _so _not a prank. Who would prank us anyways?" Lexi replied.

"Yeah and put that much work into it as well." We were both puzzled as we got into our pyjamas and climbed into bed. I pulled out a book – Woman of the Otherworld – and started reading.

"Taylor?"

"Yes Lexi?"

"Do you think that those letters were really a prank?"

I hadn't thought about that. "I don't know I guess we'll see tomorrow."

It was a minute before she replied. "What if they aren't pranks Taylor, what if we were witches, what would mom and dad say?"

I thought about this before replying, "Well then if they were real, and we were witches we would hope we get to go to Hogwarts somehow if mom and dad didn't let us."

"If only they weren't so cow-like and horse-faced, they might let us." I smiled

"Maybe someday we'll understand, Night Lexi." I turned over just catching, "Night Taylor," before drifting off into a dreamland filled with witches and wizards.

Yeah… If only…


	2. Off The Coast and The Keeper Of Key's

**Chapter 2- Off The Coast and The Keeper Of Key's  
**

**Lexi's P.O.V-**

* * *

The next day dad had us packing our suit-cases and duffel bags for a, 'trip' as he called it. Personally, I think it's because of those letters that we had gotten yesterday, they really seemed to freak mom and dad out.

I didn't really know where we were going on this trip, only that they were finally including Harry into something that real family's do. So when we finally got everything packed and all piled into our navy blue van, neither Taylor or I complained.

And so we drove. And we drove some more. And drove a little after that. Either my mom was too nervous to ask where we were going, or didn't want to make my dad mad. Every now and then dad would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while, while muttering under his breath, "Shake'em off... shake 'em off," I know it was kinda mean to think this... but I was slightly worried about his sanity. And mine. This driving was _annoying _and my arse had the _biggest _cramp in it!

My sister kept muttering nonsense under her breath, like 'How could that be possible?' or 'How could they hide something like this from us?' or the most recent one, and my favorite, 'God, am I insane?!' She also kept scribbling inside a purple notebook that had been given to us for school, but clearly she wasn't using it for that purpose. Once or twice I had tried to sneak a peek at the book and what was written, but then she gave me this _look, _like I was being annoying or something, so I just backed off.

We didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was whining and wouldn't shut up, I mean don't get me wrong, I loved my brother, but the way he treated Harry combined with his attitude, it sort of dulled my feeling for him. But I can't really blame him, he'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was starving, he'd missed five television shows he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his stupid computer.

* * *

When we finally stopped, it was on the outskirts of a big city that I didn't know the name of. Mom and dad shared a room, Harry and Dudley shared a room, and I shared a room with Taylor, obviously.

We didn't really talk much, just got in our beds that had plain white sheets and a thin duvet covering it. While I tried to go to sleep, I could still hear my sister muttering and the sound of pencil writing and erasing, writing and erasing, it went on forever.

"Can you _shut up _Taylor? Like honestly, I love you, but im only 11 and need my sleep. So do you, so _go to sleep_." My voice was muffled by the pillow I had thrown over my head about an hour ago. My statement was met with silence, and when I rolled over to look at her, she was snoring softly, sound asleep. I huffed and rolled over and closed my eyes trying to go to sleep. But when the sound of pencil on paper floated back to my ears, I rolled over once again to glare at her. But the pencil was no longer clutched in her hand, and was moving on it own accord across the open notebook sitting on her flat chest.

I slowly crawled out of my own bed, wincing when my feet touched the cold, hardwood floor of the hotel we were in. I padded the short distance between our twin beds and stood in front of her bed, watching the pencil scribble words down that sort of looked like a retelling of a dream. In the dark I could see the words 'Hagrid', 'Dumbledore', 'Pink flowered umbrella', 'Gryffindore' and 'Slytherin'.

I hesitantly shook my sister gently to get her to wake up. It didn't work so I gave her a harder shake, and when that didn't work, I shoved her off the bed and when she landed, there was a loud BANG and an 'OW!'

The pencil stopped moving and fell onto the bed.

I smiled and leaned over the side of the bed, seeing her hot chocolate-colored eyes glaring up at me.

"What the heck Alexis!" She whispered furiously while climbing to her feet.

"The pencil was moving by its own."

"What?"

"I said the penc-"

"I know what you _said _, I meant what do you mean."

"Oh."

...

"Well...?"

"Well what?"

"Oh my god Alexis!" She said exasperated and fell unceremoniously onto her bed, covering her face with her hands. "About the pencil."

"Oh, well yeah, you were sleeping and I heard the pencil moving, so I went to investigate and it was moving on its own. Like magic."

She sighed and dropped her hands off her face pulling the blankets onto her and up to her chin. "Your crazy, go to bed." She rolled back over leaving me standing there.

I blinked staring at her back before slowly moving back to my bed thinking one thing. Am I crazy? _All this craziness is making me tired. _

I laid down and finally, finally, fell into a blissful sleep. Well, sorta.

* * *

We all ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on burnt buttered toast for breakfast the next day. Yum. We had just finished when an employee from the hotel came walking towards our table.

"'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter, Ms. T. Dursley, or Ms. L. Dursley? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk 'or each." I could barely understand her heavy accent but the words registered in my brain after a few seconds.

She held up 3 letters so we could read the green ink address on the top letter:

_**Mr. H. Potter**_

_**Room 17**_

_**Railview Hotel**_

_**Cokeworth**_

Harry made a grab for the letter but dad knocked his hand out of the way before he could grab it. The woman stared. Taylor smiled apolitically at her.

"I'll take them," said dad, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room, leaving us all staring after him.

* * *

"Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" My mom suggested timidly, hours later, but dad didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off we went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage. Again, I was questioning his sanity.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked our mom dully late that afternoon. Dad had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared.

It started to rain. Great drops smacked on the roof of the car. Dudley sniffled.

"It's Monday," he told our mom. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television. "

Monday. This reminded me of something. If it was Monday - and you could usually count on my brother to know the days the week, because of television - then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's eleventh birthday. Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun - last year, our parents had given him a coat hanger and a pair of dad's old socks, but we ended up making him a chocolate cake. Still, you weren't eleven every day.

Dad was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought. I don't know why she would ask , it was obviously a gun. Taylor and I shared an uneasy look, she knew what it was to.

"Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!"

It was very cold outside the car. Dad was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there. Poor Duddy-kinz.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said dad gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!" Taylor raised an eyebrow and I snickered.

A toothless old man came ambling up to us, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them. Taylor's eyes widened and my mouth dropped open.

"I've already got us some rations," said dad, "so all aboard!"

It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down my neck and a chilly wind whipped my face. After what seemed like hours we reached the rock, where dad, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house. It wasn't quite ideal for the type of storm that's most likely approaching.

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

Dad's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and 6 bananas. He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags would just smoke and shrivel up.

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.

He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around us. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Mom found a few moldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley, Taylor, and I on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Our dad went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry was left to find the softest bit of floor he could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket. I felt horrible, but when I offered him my blanket he refused, saying that I would need it.

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. I couldn't sleep, neither could Harry. I shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, I could practically hear Harry's stomach rumbling. Dudley's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry and I, he'd be eleven in ten minutes' time. We both lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the my parents would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now.

Five minutes to go. We both heard something creak outside. I really hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although I might be warmer if it did. Four minutes to go. Maybe our house back in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that we'd all be able to steal one somehow.

Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?

One minute to go and Harry'd be eleven. Thirty seconds... twenty ... ten...nine - maybe I should wake Dudley and Taylor up, just to annoy them - three... two...one...

BOOM.

The whole shack shivered and Harry and I sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Some one was outside, knocking to come in. I didn't notice Taylor had sat up also until I heard her whisper, "Someone's out there."

BOOM. They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake. "Where's the cannon?" he said stupidly.

There was a crash behind them and dad came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands - now we knew for sure what had been in the long, thin package he had brought with them.

"Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you - I'm armed!"

There was a pause. Then -

SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor a few meters in front of us.

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair.

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at us all.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey..."

He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear.

"Budge up, yeh great lump," said the stranger. I snickered a little, even though this situation was a little messed.

Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind dad.

"An' here's Harry!" said the giant. "An' 'aylor, an' even Alexis! Why, this is spectacular!"

Harry, Taylor, and I looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," said the giant. "Yeh look lot like yet dad, but yeh've got yet mom's eyes."

Dad made a funny rasping noise.

"I demand that you leave at once, sit!" he said. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," said the giant; he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of dad's hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room.

Dad made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on.

"Anyway - Harry," said the giant, turning his back on our parents and Dudley, "a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here - I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Harry opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with 'Happy Birthday Harry' written on it in green icing, it looked like ours from last year, just a bit more... squashed.

Harry looked up at the giant. He probably meant to say thank you, but the words got lost on the way to his mouth, and what he said instead was, "Who are you?"

The giant chuckled.

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry's whole arm, before turning towards Taylor and I, giving a deep bow. I liked him already!

"What about that tea then, eh?" he said, straightening up and rubbing his hands together, "I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and I felt the warmth wash over me as though I'd stepped into a hot shower .

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first 11 fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little. Dad said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley."

The giant chuckled darkly.

"Yet great puddin' of a son don' need fattenin' anymore, Dursley, don' worry. But yer daughters and Harry, yeh hungry?"

He passed the sausages to Harry first, who was probably starving, but we still couldn't take his eyes off the giant, but still handed us the remaining 5, which Taylor and I ate, ignoring our dad's protest's . Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, I said, "I'm sorry, but we still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts - yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course.

"Er - no," said Taylor.

Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly for Taylor.

"Sorry?" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at our parents, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them 'ho should be sorry! I knew none of yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yet parents learned it all?"

"All what?" asked Harry.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!"

He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. My parents were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the Dursleys, "that this boy - this boy! - knows nothin' abou' - about ANYTHING? I know yeh daughters didn' know because they're muggleorn, but w'at 'bout 'arry?"

Muggleborn?

I thought this was going a bit far. Harry had been to school, after all, and his marks weren't bad, better than Dudley's.

"I know some things," Harry said. "I can, you know, do math and stuff." But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About our world, I mean. Your world. 'aylor and 'lexis' new world My world. Yer parents' world."

"What world?"

Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.

"DURSLEY!" he boomed.

Dad, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared wildly at Harry.

"But yeh must know about yet mom and dad," he said. "I mean, they're famous. You're famous."

"What? My - my mom and dad weren't famous, were they?" I could tell he was confused, so was I, and judging by the bewildered look Taylor threw me, she was to.

"Yeh don' know... yeh don' know..." Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Harry with a bewildered stare.

"Yeh don' know what yeh are?" he said finally.

Dad suddenly found his voice.

"Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sit! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!"

A braver man than my dad would have fallen to his knees under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from him all these years?"

"Kept what from me?" Said Harry eagerly.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" Yelled dad in a panic.

Mom gave a gasp of horror.

"Ah, go boil yet heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Harry - yet a wizard. You too 'aylor and 'lexis, witches, that is." Taylor and I's mouths simultaneously fell open in shock.

There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.

"- a what?" gasped Harry, Taylor, and I at the same time.

"Magical, o' course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, "an' thumpin' good'uns, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, 'Arry what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."

Harry stretched out his hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald-green to Mr. H. Potter, Ms. T. Dursley, and Ms. A. Dursley, The Floor and the Couch, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. He pulled open the letter and read aloud:

**_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_**

**_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_**

**_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme_**  
**_Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_**

**_Dear Ms. Dursley, Mr. Potter & Ms. Dursley,_**

**_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._**

**_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl's by no later than July 31._**

**_Yours sincerely,_**

**_Minerva McGonagall,_**

**_Deputy Headmistress_**

Questions exploded inside my head like fireworks but I couldn't decide which to ask first. After a few minutes Harry beat me to it and stammered out, "What does it mean, they await our owl?"

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl - a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl - a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Harry, Taylor, and I could read upside down:

_**Dear Professor Dumbledore,**_

_**Given Harry and his cousin's their letter.**_

_**Taking them to buy their things tomorrow.**_

_**Weather's horrible. Hope you're Well.**_

_**Hagrid**_

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.

Harry must have realized his mouth was open, because he closed it quickly.

"Where was I?" said Hagrid, but at that moment, dad, still ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight.

"There not going," he said.

Hagrid grunted.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop them," he said.

"A what?" , I said, interested.

"A Muggle," said Hagrid, "it's what we call nonmagic folk like thern. An' it's your bad luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on- sorry 'aylor and 'lexis."

"None taken."

"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said dad, "swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed! And now you've infected my daughters!"

"You knew?" said Harry. "You knew I'm a - a wizard?"

"Knew!" shrieked mom suddenly. "Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that-that school-and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was - a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years. She never talked about my aunt Lilly.

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as - as - abnormal - and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

Harry had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice he said, "Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that my parents and little brother scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!"

"But why? What happened?" Harry asked urgently.

The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious.

"I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Harry, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh - but someone 3 s gotta - yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys.

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh - mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it..."

He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds, and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with - with a person called - but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows -"

"Who? "

"Well - I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?"

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**Like it? Hate it? Review and I'll make you some brownies!**


	3. Dad That Doesn't Care and Diagon Alley

**_L-Thank you for the reviews! Here are those cupcakes I promised you! Oh, and almost forgot the disclaimer, 'We do not own any J.K. Rowling characters, only the ones we have made up are our own, well and the plot of the story._**

**_T- -Whispers- it was brownies, not cupcakes._**

**_L- Whatever -Shrugs- same thing. -hands you a platter of cupcakes-_**

**_T- Whatever -Sighs- Now on to the story!_**

* * *

**_Chapter Three— Dad That Doesn't Care and Diagon Alley  
_**

**_Taylor's P.O.V—_**

* * *

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went... bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was..."

Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

"Could you write it down?" My cousin suggested.

"Nah -can't spell it. All right - Voldemort. " Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this - this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too - some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, they were. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches... terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him - an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew, Harry. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em... maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' - an' -"

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad - knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find - anyway..."

"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then - an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing - he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a Powerful, evil curse touches yeh - took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even - but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age - the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts - an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."

I couldn't help but look at Harry to see what his reaction was, and he looked a little conflicted, like he was dealing with a lot of emotions, but he didn't actually _know_ what they were. I was worried about him, I mean, he just found out that his mom and dad had been subjected to a curse -apparently a really bad one- and that his parents weren't actually killed in a car crash, but by an evil, dark wizard, that had wanted to kill him. I wonder what happened to him, Hagrid talked as if it was the past, and he was gone now. Maybe that's why Harry was famous, maybe he somehow vanquished this supposed 'Dark Lord'.

Hagrid was watching Harry sadly.

"Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot..."

"Load of old tosh," said dad. Harry jumped, it almost looked like he forgot my parents were there, I mused. Dad certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, boy," he snarled, "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured - and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion - asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types - just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end -"

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at dad like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Dursley -I'm warning you - one more word... "

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, dad's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent. He seemed to have forgotten, that both of his daughters were a supposed 'witch's'.

"That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor.

"But what happened to Vol-, sorry - I mean, You-Know-Who?" Harry and I asked at the same time, though I actually finished his name by accident.

"Good question. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried teh kill Harry. Makes him even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see... he was gettin' more an' more powerful - why'd he go?

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don~ reckon they could've done if he was comin' back.

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on - I dunno what it was, no one does - but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looked at Harry with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes. I liked Hagrid, he was nice to Harry and-

"Hagrid," Harry said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard."

"Or I, a witch." I piped in. "How is that possible?"

To my surprise, Hagrid chuckled.

"Not a wizard, eh, or a witch? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

After Harry seemed to have contemplated something, Harry looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at him.

"See?" said Hagrid. "Harry Potter, not a wizard - you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts. And as for yer question, 'Aylor, you likely inherited it from Lilly, your aunt. "

After that sentence, mom made a sort of choking sound in the back of her throat.

But Dad wasn't going to give in without a fight.

"Haven't I told you they're not going?" he hissed. "He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it, and my daughters are going to Smeltings academy with their brother. I've read those letters and they would need all sorts of rubbish - spell books and wands and -"

"If they want ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop them, even if they're yer daughters, yeh can't hide the fact that they belong in the wizardin' world," growled Hagrid."Yer mad. Harry's name's been down ever since he was born. He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world, and his cousins _will_be joinin' him. Seven years there and they won't know themselves. they'll be with youngsters of their own sort, fer a change, an' they'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had Albus Dumbledo-"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH THEM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled dad, his face going purple with rage.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER," he thundered, "- INSULT- ALBUS- DUMBLEDORE- IN- FRONT- OF- ME!"

Wow.

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley - there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, I saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers. My mouth dropped open in shock, and Lexi's followed not soon after.

Dad roared, and pulled mom and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them, after seeing that Lexi and I weren't going to follow him. Wow, he _really _must care.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do."

He cast a sideways look at us under his bushy eyebrows.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm - er - not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff - one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Lexi.

"Oh, well - I was at Hogwarts meself but I - er - got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?" Harry questioned.

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry.

"You can kip under that," he said. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."

We all woke early the next morning. Although I could tell it was daylight, I kept my eyes shut tight. That was a really good dream, for the second time in a row, I mused.

"It was a dream", Harry's voice said in the darkness behind my eyelids. "I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I'll be at home in my cupboard."

Suddenly, I heard a loud tapping noise.

"And there's Aunt Petunia knocking on the door", Harry said aloud again, and it seemed he had had the same dream as me.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"All right," Harry mumbled, "I'm getting up." Is my cousin crazy?

I finally sat up from my new spot of the floor, Lexi snoring lightly next to me, and watched as he sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

Harry scrambled to his feet and went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat.

"Don't do that."

Harry tried to wave the owl out-of-the-way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat.

"Hagrid!" said Harry loudly. "There's an owl."

"Pay him," Hagrid grunted into the sofa.

"What?" That was said by Harry and I, and he looked slightly surprised that I was awake.

"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets." Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets, after he dug around a little, finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins.

"Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily.

"Knuts?" He sounded as confused as I was.

"The little bronze ones."

After Harry had counted out five of those weird coins, it flew out through the open window.

Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.

"Best be Off, ladies and gentlemen, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."

I sat up and slapped Lexi upside the head, she still didn't wake up. I sighed. Typical.

"Um - Hagrid?" Asked Harry.

"Mm?" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.

"We haven't got any money-and you heard Uncle Vernon last night ... he won't pay for any of us to go and learn magic."

"Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"

"But if their house was destroyed -"

"They didn' keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold - an' I wouldn' say no teh a bit o' yer birthday cake, neither, Harry."

"Wizards have banks?" I asked.

"Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."

Harry dropped the bit of sausage he was holding.

"Goblins?" That was said by the now awake Lexi.

"Yeah - so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Harry. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe - 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you gettin' things from Gringotts - knows he can trust me, see.

"Got everythin'? Come on, then."

"Wait. But what about Taylor and I? We don't have any relatives that are in the wizarding world... and my dad wont pay for any of our necessities.

"Well im sure, Harry wont mind lending you some galleons for your first year." Hagrid said while gesturing to Harry, who nodded his consent.

I was smart enough to figure out that 'galleons' was what they most likely called their money in the wizarding world, and it looked like Lexi and Harry were smart enough also.

Harry, Lexi and I followed Hagrid out onto the rock. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The crappy boat dad had got was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm. I winced, that looked more unsafe now.

"How did you get here?" Harry and I asked, me looking around for another boat."Flew," said Hagrid.

"Flew?" Lexi.

"Yeah - but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."

They settled down in the boat.

"Seems a shame ter row, though," said Hagrid, giving Harry, Lexi, and I another of his sideways looks. "If I was ter - er - speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"

"Of course not," chorused all three of us. Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.

"Why would you be mad to try to rob Gringotts?" Harry asked a few seconds after leaving the little rock island.

"Spells - enchantments," said Hagrid, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. "They say there's dragons guardin' the highsecurity vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way - Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."

I sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, the Daily Prophet. Harry had learned from dad that people liked to be left alone while they did this.

My thoughts drifted to the other night, and how Lexi had seen the pencil writing on its own accord across my notebook. Sure, I had called her crazy then, but now, I know she wasn't crazy, our whole life was. After I heard Lexi drift off to dreamland, I had looked at the notebook with a little blue flashlight that I always kept near me. It had said some crazy things. But what was the most crazy, was that all the things I had heard in the dream, were coming to life. I was starting to wonder if this whole thing was a dream. I mean, it's not everyday you wake up and find out you're a witch. It's awesome, but not something that happens everyday.

Hogwarts. Something about that name irked me. Like... who in the _bloody hell _named a _school _Hogwarts? Honestly, I bet the dude that did, was a giant meany! like WTH?

I was smacked back to reality with that last thought to hear Harry ask:

"But what does a Ministry of Magic do?"

What does it do?

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."

Oh, duh.

"Why?"

"Why? Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."

At this moment the boat hit into the harbor wall, not hard though. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street.

People moving past stared at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station. I really couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, but he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, "See that, Harry? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"

"Hagrid," said Harry, panting a bit as he ran to keep up, "did you say there are dragons at Gringotts?"

"Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon."

"You'd like one?"

"Wanted one ever since I was a kid - here we go."

They had reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Hagrid, who didn't understand "Muggle money," as he called it, gave the bills to me so he could buy their tickets.

People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a yellow circus tent.

I sat with Lexi to my right, and Harry to my left, who had Hagrid next to him.

"Still got the letter, Harry?" he asked as he counted stitches. Harry took the parchment envelope out of his pocket.

"Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh guys- sor'y- an' girls need."

Harry unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn't noticed the night before, and read aloud:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

wand cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) set

glass or crystal phials

telescope set

brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"Can we buy all this in London?" Harry wondered aloud.

"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.

Harry had never been to London before, all the times we went, our parents left him at home to clean. Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not used to getting there in an ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too slow.

"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said as they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops.

I raised my eyebrows, while Lexi snickered while whispering, "Well we've been pretty good so far, without it, that is."

Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all I really had to do was keep close behind him, well, and keep looking behind me so that I knew Harry and Lexi were behind me. They passed book shops and music stores, restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. So where were they supposed to go to get all this stuff?

"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

I blinked at it and Lexi leaned over and whispered, ""...Famous?"

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, I wouldn't have noticed it was there, well, maybe I would, but not in a good way... The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, I had the most weird feeling that only Lexi, Harry, Hagrid, and I could see it. Before I could get another look at it, Hagrid had steered all three of us inside.

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of something. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Harry's shoulder and making Harry's knees buckle. I reached out a pale hand to help steady him, and he gave me a little smile.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at Harry, "is this - can this be -?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

_What just happened?_

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter... what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."

There was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, and my short, black-haired cousin found himself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand - I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before!" said Harry, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop."

"He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? He remembers me!" Harry shook hands again and again - Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harry, Lexi, Taylor, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harry's hand and nodding nervously at my sister and I, "c-can't t-tell you how p- pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" I asked curiously.

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.

I don't know why, but I was getting bad vibes from this 'Professor Quirrell', and from the look Lexi threw me, she was to.

The others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Harry to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.

"Must get on - lots ter buy. Come on."

Doris Crockford shook Harry's hand one last time, and Hagrid led the three of them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

Hagrid grinned at all three us.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh Harry was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh - mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

"Is he always that nervous?" I bluntly asked.

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthan experience... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag - never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject now, where's me umbrella?"

Vampires? Hags? Whats a hag? Hagrid, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.

"Three up... two across," he muttered. "Right, stand back, girls." He adressed only us because we were standing right next to him.

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.

The brick he had touched quivered - it wriggled - in the middle, a small hole appeared - it grew wider and wider - a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

My mouth dropped open and my eyes widened.

BEST. PLACE. EVER!

* * *

**There you have it, folks. The third chapter for 'If Only'. **

**BTW- Somebody said it was boring because there wasn't much difference from the original book. Well what are we supposed to do? Change the whole thing? Its a ****_re-write _****it only has a little bit of change, the most we did was edit them in and change the plot a bit. It's like, Hagrid would still say all that stuff, and people would still act that way around Harry, thy would just acknowledge his cousins a little, and by the way, it will change, they're not around Harry 24/7. They do stuff on their own.**


	4. Gringotts and Mudblood's

**Chapter 4- Gringotts and Mudbloods**

**Lexi's P.O.V**

* * *

Hagrid grinned at all our amazement. I stepped through the archway after Taylor. Harry followed my lead and looked quickly over his shoulder at the same time as I did, and saw the archway shrink instantly back into a red solid brick wall.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. _'Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible'_, said a sign hanging over them.

"Yeah, you'll all be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get Harry's money firs'."

I watched as Harry turned his head in every direction as we walked up the street. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as we passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad..." What?

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying _'Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy'_. Several boys of about our age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," I heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand - fastest ever - " There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments I had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes -ew-, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon...?

"Gringotts," said Hagrid.

We had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was -

"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as we all walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry, a head and a half shorter than Taylor, and two heads shorter than me. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, as I noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as we walked inside. Now we were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

"Like I said, Yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid.

A pair of goblins bowed us through the silver doors and we were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid and Harry, Taylor and I made for the counter.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's safe."

"You have his key, sir?"

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, as he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. I watched the goblin on our right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals. Whoa!

"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key. A very tiny key, how did he even hold it?

The goblin looked at it very closely.

"That seems to be in order."

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the _You-Know-What_ in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin read the letter carefully.

"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, we followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

"What's the _You-Know-What_ in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked.

"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "_Very_ secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."

Griphook held the door open for us. We were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were _little_ railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward us. We climbed in - Hagrid with some difficulty - and were off.

At first we just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. I saw Harry trying to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was clearly impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook surely wasn't steering.

My eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but I kept them half-way open. Once, I thought I saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late - we plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

"I never know," Harry called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick."

He did indeed look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry, Taylor and I gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

All Harry's - it was incredible. Our parents couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than blinking. How often they had complained how much Harry cost them to keep? And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to him, buried deep under London.

Hagrid helped Harry pile some of it into a bag. Then another bag for Taylor and I.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough." Liar. "Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," said Griphook.

We were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as we hurtled round tight corners. We went rattling over an underground ravine, and Harry leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, I'm guessing, but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck.

Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole. What? Now how were we supposed to get in there?

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked cautiously.

"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather scary grin.

Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, I was sure of it, and I leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least - but at first I thought it was empty. Then I noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. I longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.

He did look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

All Harry's - it was incredible. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than blinking. How often had they complained how much Harry cost them to keep? And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to him, buried deep under London.

Hagrid helped Harry pile some of it into a bag.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," said Griphook.

They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Harry leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck.

Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.

"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin.

Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Harry was sure, and he leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least - but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.

One wild cart ride later we stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. I didn't know where to run first now that Taylor and I had a bag full of money. I didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that I was holding more money than I'd had in my whole life - more money than even Dudley had ever had.

"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, you guys, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Harry, Taylor and I entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, all feeling very nervous.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve. Mauve like purple.

"Hogwarts, dears?" she said, when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry o the boys right, and Taylor and I on his left.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a boring, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to took at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

I didn't like this kid, he reminded me of Dudley.

I looked towards my sister and saw hr doing these weird jerking movements with her head, trying not to disturb the witch that was pinning her school robes to her size. When she saw she had my attention she whispered quietly, "I don't like him, he's like... a meaner version of Dudley, talking about bullying his parents and stuff. He's weird."

I nodded and thought about it for a few seconds, he was like Dudley, but more spoiled than him, and all he did was _sneer. _Like a rhino.

I looked back at him at his next words, "I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

I narrowed my eyes at him and sneered, "What do you mean, _they're just not the same_? We both have magic like you, were human like you, you act like were the abominable snowman, or something. I look like you don't I? So what if my sister and I are muggleborn?"

He stared at me with wide eyes before they narrowed and his sneer was back on his face. "Your a _mudblood_?"

My mouth dropped open, sure, I didn't know what it meant, but I could tell by the way he said it that it was an insult. Heck, it _reeked _insult.

"Why you little-"

* * *

**End of chapter! Muh ah ha!**


	5. Mr Ollivander and Goodbye's

**I know it's a short chapter, but its actually a continuation of the last chapter. Thats why they're both really short.  
**

**Disclaimer- I sadly do not own Harry Potter or its characters. All rights go to J.  
**

**Chapter 4- Mr. Ollivanders and Goodbye's  
**

**Taylor's P.O.V**

* * *

Lexi never did get to hit that guy in the face, I know she really wanted to, though. Madame Malkin ended up interrupting her by saying Harry's measurements were done, and a few seconds later we were leaving the store. Hagrid bought us ice-cream, got Harry a beautiful sleeping snowy owl for his birthday, Lexi got a handsome barn owl -his name's Blaze- and I wanted a cat, so I got a cat, much to Hagrid's displeasure. His name is Chair man meow. And now, the part Ive been waiting for the most, we were now getting our wands at_ 'Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C'._

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as the four of us stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. For some reason, the back of my neck prickled when I looked at all the little brown boxes lining the old walls. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry and I jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like full moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry, Lexi, and I awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work. And who do we have here? Ah, yes Mr. Potter's cousins."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to the three of us. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy, but a good creepy.

"Your father, on the other hand, Mr. Potter, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it-it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander had gone so close to Harry that they were almost nose to nose.

"And that's where..."

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

He shook his head and then spotted Hagrid.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.

"Er-yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.

"But you don't use them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.

"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. He gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke.

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now-Mr. Potter, first. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er-well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

It was kinda weird, the tape measure was measuring Harry on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try-"

Harry tried - but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no-here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harry tried. And tried. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere-I wonder, now-yes, why not-unusual combination-holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand, raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Hagrid, and Lexi whooped and clapped while I smiled brightly at Harry clapping my hands and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..."

He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious..."

"Sorry," said Harry, "but what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather-just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother-why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harry and I swallowed, while Lexi suddenly became fixated on her shoes.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things-terrible, yes, but great."

Harry shivered, and Mr. Ollivander moved over to me while the measure tape started measuring me. "What is your wand arm, Ms. Dursley?"

"I'm right handed," I said, and he 'hmmmd' again before walking over to the shelf with all the dusty brown boxes and picking one up. "Maple and Phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy."

I gave it a swoosh, and a bunch of small boxes went flying off their shelves. Blushing, I carefully set it back on the counter.

"How about this one-ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, give it a whip," he ushered the wand into my hand, and I hesitantly raised it above like Harry did and brought it swishing down through the dusty air. A stream of pink and gold sparks came out like the fireworks we'll sometimes see when the neighbors are celebrating something.

Lexi took her turn and on the third try, silver and green sparks shot out. Her wand was Dragon Heartstring, Holly. 9 3/4 inches.

When we were finished we paid for our wands, the total was twenty-one gold galleons.

* * *

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as we all made our way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. None of us spoke as we walked down the road. Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; Harry, Lexi, and I only realized where we were when Hagrid cleared his throat and said:

"Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves."

He bought Harry a hamburger, Lexi a salad, me a chicken sandwich and we sat down on plastic seats to eat them. Harry kept looking around, Lexi was happily munching on her salad, and I was staring at Lexi's owl who wouldn't stop staring at me.

"The three of you alrigh'? Yer very quiet," said Hagrid.

"Everyone thinks I'm special," Harry said at last, answering for us. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander... but we don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I'm famous and I can't even remember what I'm famous for. I don't know what happened when Vol-, sorry - I mean, the night my parents died. And what about Taylor and Lexi? It's like everyone ignores them, in favor of talking to me."

Hagrid leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile.

"Don' you worry, Harry. You'll all learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts-I did-still do, 'smatter of fact, an' 'aylor and Lexi won' be left out of anything yeh do."

* * *

Hagrid helped the three of us on to the train that would take us back to Private Drive, then he handed me an envelope.

"Yer ticket fer Hogwarts, " he said. "First o' September-King's Cross-it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with your parents, send me a letter with one of yer owl's, they'll know where to find me... See yeh soon."

The train pulled out of the station. We all wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; so we all rose in our seats and pressed our nosees against the window, but when we blinked Hagrid had gone.


	6. The Weasley's and Harry Potter

**Disclaimer- I don't own any Harry Potter characters_  
_**

**Chapter six— The Weasley's and Harry Potter  
**

**Lexi's P.O.V—**

* * *

Our last month with my parents wasn't fun. True, mom and dad didn't shut Harry in his cupboard, force him to do anything, or shout at him-in fact, they didn't speak to him at all. Half terrified, half furious, they acted as though any chair with Harry in it were empty. But the sad thing was, they did the exact same thing to Taylor and I.

We all kept to Taylor and I's room-Harry included-with Taylor's cat, Chair man meow, and Harry and I's owl's for company. Harry had decided to call her Hedwig, a name he said he had found in_ A History of Magic_. Our school books were very interesting. Harry lay on his bed reading late into the night when Taylor and I were sleeping, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that my mom didn't come in to vacuum anymore, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice.

On the last day of August we thought we'd all better speak to mom and dad about getting to King's Cross station the next day, so we all went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. Harry cleared his throat to let them know we were there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room.

I glanced at Taylor and she sighed.

"Er - Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked.

Dad grunted to show he was listening.

"We need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to-to go to Hogwarts," I finished for him.

Dad grunted again.

"Would it be all right if you gave us a lift?" Taylor asked.

Grunt. I'm going to take that as a yes.

"Thank you." Apparently Harry did to.

We were about to head back upstairs when dad actually spoke.

"Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"

I stiffened and Taylor nudged me in the ribs gently.

"Where is this school, anyway?"

"I don't know," said Harry. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given us out of his pocket.

"I just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock," he read.

His aunt and uncle stared.

"Platform what?"

"Nine and three-quarters," Taylor repeated.

"Don't talk rubbish," said dad. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters."

"It's on our ticket," Harry said waving it in the air slightly.

"Barking," said dad, "howling mad, the lot of them. You'll all see. You just wait. All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."

"Why are you going to London?" Taylor asked, trying to keep things friendly.

"Taking your brother to the hospital," growled Uncle Vernon. "Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings."

Harry woke Taylor and I up at five o'clock the next morning because he was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He checked our Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that Hedwig, Blaze, and Chair man meow was shut safely in their cages, and then paced the room, waiting for my parents to wake up. Two hours later, our three huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the car, mom had tried talking Dudley into sitting next to Harry, but that didn't work out so she sat him next to me, Taylor next to Harry, and we set off.

We reached King's Cross at half past ten. Dad dumped Harry's trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for him, mom having wheeled Taylor's and I's for us. I thought dad was being strangely kind until he stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.

"Well, there you are. Platform nine-platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

"Have a good term," said dad with an even nastier smile. He left without another word. Harry and I turned and saw them drive away. Dad and Dudley were laughing, but mom was just siting there.

My mouth dropped open. "Did they jus-? Wha-? What the _heck_?!"

Taylor sighed and grabbed Harry's hand. "Come on, guys. We'll have to ask someone." We were starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because of Hedwig and Blaze.

Taylor stopped a passing guard, but didn't dare mention platform nine and three-quarters. The guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when we couldn't even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though Taylor was being stupid on purpose. Taylor asked for the train that left at eleven o'clock, but the guard said there wasn't one. In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time wasters. We were now trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, we had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and we had no idea how to do it; we were stranded in the middle of a station with two trunk's we could hardly lift, three pockets full of wizard money, two large owl's, and a cat.

"Hagrid must have forgotten to tell us something we have to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley," Taylor stated nervously. "Maybe we have to use our wands...?"

At that moment a large group of people passed just behind him and I caught a few words of what they were saying.

"- packed with Muggles, of course-"

Harry, Taylor and I swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like ours in front of him-and they had an owl.

"Come on!" Taylor said anxiously, "lets follow them, they seem like they know where to go."

Taylor pushed Harry's cart after them, and I grabbed ours. They stopped and so did we, just near enough to hear what they were saying.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, "Mom, can't I go..."

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."

What looked like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten. We all watched, careful not to blink in case we missed it-but just as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.

"Seriously?!" I hissed.

"Wait!" Taylor whispered.

"Fred, you next," the plump woman said.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone-but how had he done it?

Now the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier he was almost there-and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't anywhere.

There was nothing else for it.

"Excuse me," Harry said to the plump woman.

"Hello, dear's," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too."

She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose.

"Yes," said Taylor. "The thing is-the thing is, We don't really know how to-"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Taylor nodded.

"Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

"Er-okay," said Harry.

Taylor pushed Harry's trolley around, Harry and I following after her and stared at the barrier.

She started to walk toward it, and Harry and I followed. People jostled us on their way to platforms nine and ten. Taylor and Harry sped up. they broke into a heavy run, and I rushed after them-the barrier was coming nearer and nearer-_ Im going to crash. Im going to crash,_ was being chanted in my head-im going to crash, and die.

It didn't come. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said _Hogwarts' Express, eleven o'clock_. Harry, Taylor, and I looked behind me and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters_ on it.

"This. Is. AWESOME!" I exclaimed grinning, and Taylor and Harry laughed.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Taylor pushed Harry's cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat, and Harry and I followed after her. We passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again."

"Oh, Neville," I heard the old woman sigh.

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.

"Give us a look, Lee, go on."

The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

We pressed on through the crowd until we found an empty compartment near the end of the train. Taylor put Hedwig, Blaze, and Chair man meow inside first and then started to shove and heave Harry's trunk toward the train door. She tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice she dropped it painfully on her foot.

"Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired twins we'd followed through the barrier.

"Yes, please," Taylor panted, blushing.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!"

With the twins' help, Harry's, Taylor's and I's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," said Taylor, pushing her sweaty hair out of her coco brown eyes.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you-?"

"He is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.

"What?" asked Harry. I was a little lost, to.

"Harry Potter." chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am."

Taylor and I exchanged a look and she giggled.

The two boys gawked at him, and Harry turned red. Then a voice came floating in through the train's open door.

"Fred? George? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mom."

With a last look at the three of us, the twins hopped off the train.

Harry sat down next to the window, and I sat next to him, Taylor next to me. We watched the red-headed family outside the window. The mother had just pulled out a white handkerchief.

"Ron, you've got something on your nose."

The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"Mom-geroff" He wriggled free.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said one of the twins.

"Shut up," said Ron.

"Where's Percy?" said their mother.

"He's coming now."

The oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and Harry noticed a shiny silver badge on his chest with the letter P on it.

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves-"

"Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin. "Once-"

"Or twice-"

"A minute-"

"All summer-"

"Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins.

"Because he's a prefect," said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term - send me an owl when you get there."

She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins.

"Now, you two-this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've-you've blown up a toilet or-"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mom."

"It's not funny. And look after Ron."

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Shut up," said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

"Hey, Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"

Harry leaned back quickly so they couldn't see him looking, but Taylor and I continued looking.

"You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"

"Who?"

"Harry Potter!"

Harry heard the little girl's voice.

"Oh, Mom, can I go on the train and see him, Mom, eh please..."

"You've already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. Is he really, Fred? How do you know?"

"Asked him. Saw his scar. It's really there-like lightning."

"Poor dear. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform."

"Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

Their mother suddenly became very stern.

"I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school."

"All right, keep your hair on."

A whistle sounded.

"Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger sister began to cry.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts' toilet seat."

"George!"

"Only joking, Mom."

The train began to move. Harry saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed, then she fell back and waved.

We all watched the girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. I felt a leap of excitement.

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest redheaded boy came in.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry and Taylor shook their heads and the boy sat down. He glanced at Harry and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked. He still had a black mark on his nose.

"Hey, Ron."

The twins were back.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train-Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Harry, and ladies" said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"Bye," said Harry, Taylor, Ron and I. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out.

Harry nodded.

"Oh-well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got-you know..."

He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared.

"So that's where You-Know-Who - ?"

"Yes," said Harry, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly.

"Well-I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked at Taylor and I.

"Who are you?" He asked rather bluntly, but curiously.

I gasped and put a hand to my chest, "You've no idea who I am?!"

He stuttered, "Well-I mean-"

Taylor cut him off laughing. "Were Harry's cousins. I'm Taylor Dursley, that's my twin sister Alexis, but call her Lexi."

"Twins?" Ron asked, "You don't look alike. Well, other than the brown hair and brown eyes."

I raised an eyebrow smiling in amusement, "Were fraternal twins."

He blushed, "Oh, yeah, right." It got quiet before Harry spoke up.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry.

"Er-Yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already," Taylor stated.

The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the stupid boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

"You know, there's two sitting right here," Taylor said.

Ron blushed again, "Oh, right. Sorry, forgot."

"Horrible-well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin Dudley are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers, but I have Taylor and Lexi," Harry said.

"Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left-Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. Chair man meow hissed and ran into Taylor's lap.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff-I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

Harry didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, he'd never had any money in his life until a month ago, and he told Ron so, all about having to wear Dudley's old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Ron up.

"... and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort-"

Ron gasped.

"What?" said Harry.

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Harry, "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet," he added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying him a lot lately, "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough."

"Yeah, Harry don't talk like that! our going to be good in everything. I bet you'll be best in Potions class, because you cook really good, and it's basically the same right?" Taylor said with a smile.

"Well..." Ron hesitated, "I don't really know about Potions, Fred and George told me about the Professor, his names Severus Snape. He's really harsh, favors the Slytherins, and hates all other houses, es specially Gryffindor. He takes away house points like crazy, not from the Slytherins though. George once told me, that a Slytherin once threw a sleep potion in a Gryffindor's face, and he gave him five house points for sharing with other houses."

While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Harry, who hadn't had any breakfast, leapt to his feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor.

He had never had any money for candy with the Dursleys, and now that he had pockets rattling with gold and silver he was ready to buy as many Mars Bars as he could carry - but the woman didn't have Mars Bars. What she did have were Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs. Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting to miss anything, he got some of everything and paid the woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.

Ron stared as Harry brought it all back in to the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?" Taylor and Ron asked.

"Starving," said Harry, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty.

Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef.."

"Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up a pasty. "Go on-"

"You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."

"Go on, have a pasty," said Harry. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Harry, Ron, and Taylor eating our way through all Harry's pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten).

"What are these?" Harry asked Ron, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?" He was starting to feel that nothing would surprise him.

"No," said Ron. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?"

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know-Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect - famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name _Albus Dumbledore_.

"So this is Dumbledore!" said Harry.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa-thanks-"

Harry turned over his card and read:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

_Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling._

Harry turned the card back over and saw, to his astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!"

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Ron. "He'll be back. No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her... do you want it? You can start collecting."

Ron's eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.

"Help yourself," said Harry. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos."

"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron sounded amazed. "Weird!"

Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled back into the picture on his card and gave him a small smile. Ron was more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, but Harry couldn't keep his eyes off them. Soon he had not only Dumbledore and Morgana, but Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin. Taylor and I having given all of ours to him. He finally tore his eyes away from the Druidess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose, to open a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Harry and I. "When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor-you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavored one once."

Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner.

"Bleaaargh-see? Sprouts."

They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Harry got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one Ron wouldn't touch, which turned out to be pepper. I got coconut, peppermint, sea salt, dirt, pumpkin, grape, strawberry, and french toast. Taylor wouldn't eat any of them.


	7. Missing Toads and Draco Malfoy

**Chapter 7- Missing Toads and Draco Malfoy  
**

**Taylor's P.O.V**

* * *

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy we had passed on platform nine and three-quarters came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," I said, trying to console to boy.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him..."

He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway-"

He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er-all right."

He cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,

Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard-I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough-I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said all this very fast.

Harry looked at Ron for some reason, I liked this girl, she learned all the course books like I did.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Alexis Dursley, but please, call me Lexi," Lexi said, eating a pumpkin pastrie.

"Taylor Dursley, it's nice to meet you," I said with a smile.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course-I got a few extra books, for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" said Harry, looking a little dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do any of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You four had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

And she left, taking Neville with her.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell-George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

I scowled at him, "Don't say that, Ron. It's not very nice."

He threw Harry a look, then looked back at me, "But it's _true_, you were right there when she was going on and on about stuff!"

"It doesn't matter, it's still not nice," I stated firmly.

"What house are your brothers in?" asked Harry a minute later, trying to ease the tension.

"Gryffindor," said Ron. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"That's the house Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.

"They won't put you in Slytherin, they'd be nuts to do that. You've got Gryffindor written all over you," Lexi said with a smile.

Ron hesitantly smiled back and mumbled, "Thanks."

"So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?" Harry asked, most likely trying to take Ron's mind off the houses.

What _did_wizards do when they finished school?

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles-someone tried to rob a high security vault."

Harry, Lexi, and I stared at him.

"Really? What happened to them?" Harry asked.

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

"What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked.

"Er-We don't really know any." Harry confessed.

"What!" Ron looked dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world-" And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money. He was just taking us through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy, or Hermione Granger this time.

Three boys entered, and I recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop, the one that Lexi had tried to beat to a pulp. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley, completely ignoring Lexi, Ron, and I.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards. Lexi was staring at the pale boy, well not really _staring_, more like glaring.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" I ignored what Lexi was muttering, though is sounded strangely like, "The stupid git just _had_to have an awesome name," and continued listening to Draco, "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly. Lexi smirked.

Draco didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Lexi, Harry, and Ron stood up.

"Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.

"No, but I feel like giving you a big kiss on the cheek," sneered Lexi, "With my fist. So get out," She held up her fist for emphases.

"But we don't feet like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron-Ron and Lexi leapt forward, but before they'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.

Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle-Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once. Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they'd heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had come in.

"What has been going on?" she said, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail.

"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry. He looked closer at Scabbers. "No-I don't believe it-he's gone back to sleep."

And so he had.

"You've met Malfoy before?"

Harry and Lexi explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," said Ron, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

"All right-I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Hermione in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Ron glared at her as she left. Harry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. The train did seem to be slowing down.

Lexi and I pushed Harry and Ron out of the compartment so we could get dressed, and when we were finished we let them in to change.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

My stomach lurched with excitement, and Ron looked pale under his freckles. We all crammed our pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. My breath showed in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and I heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All righ' there, guys? Sorry, and girls."

Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me-any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Lexi, Ron, and I all clambered into a boat. Lexi whispered, "This is so awesome!" Into my ear.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then-FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; we all bent our heads and the little boats carried us through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. We were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking us right underneath the castle, until we reached a kind of underground harbor, where we all clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then we clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

Wewalked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

* * *

**Done! So, based on Lexi's and Taylor's personality's so far, what houses do you think they'll be in?  
**


	8. We're Harry's Cousins and Weird Dreams

**_Chapter Eight— We're Harry's Cousins and Weird Dreams  
_**

**_Lexi's P.O.V—_**

* * *

He door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and my first thought was that this was not someone to mess with.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of my house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

We followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. I could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right-the rest of the school must already be here-but Professor McGonagall showed us first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. We crowded in, standing rather closer together than I was usually comfortable with, when I looked around everyone was peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry tried to flatten his hair with a nervous look on his face.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" I asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

I looked around curiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead us to our doom.

Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air - several people behind him screamed.

"What the-?"

Harry gasped. So did the people around me. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Harry got into line behind Taylor, me behind her, a boy with sandy hair behind me, with Ron behind him, and we walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was awesome. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Harry looked upward and I followed his gaze and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. I heard Hermione whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Harry and I looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. My mom wouldn't have let it in the house.

Noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, I stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:

_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry, Taylor, and I. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to wrestle a troll. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause-

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; I could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was my imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but they looked like an unpleasant lot.

"Dursley, Alexis!" I blinked walked up to the stool. McGonagall placed the hat on my head and the last thing I saw before the hats blackness, was my sister's anxious face staring at me.

"Tricky, very tricky. Lots of talent, braveness, and fierce protectiveness. Slytherin, perhaps?" Said a small voice close to my ear.

"Not Slytherin," I growled inside of my head.

"Not Slytherin? Well then it better be GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted, and I smiled took the hat off, handed it to McGonagall and rushed over to my seat at the Gryffindor table. Ron's brothers smiled and Percy patted me on the back.

I turned back to the front when McGonagall called the next name, "Dursley, Taylor."

She calmly walked up to the stool and sat down, the hall went silent again and watched as the hat was sat atop her small head, her eyes disappearing under the rim of it. She sat there for barley ten seconds before the hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR."

She smiled after taking off the hat, and the Gryffindor table clapped politely as she walked over. She whispered, "Hello again," as she sat beside me.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" McGonagall called after Taylor had taken her seat.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, I noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide, like when it was on my head. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to me in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Draco swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Draco went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now. "Moon"..., "Nott"..., "Parkinson"..., then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"..., then "Perks, Sally-Anne"..., and then, at last-

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"_The_ Harry Potter?"

Harry nervously walked over to the stool and sat down, when the hat slipped over his head his eyes disappeared under it.

We waited. And we waited. When_ finally_.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted. Immediately Gryffindor erupted into cheers, some of the shorter people even stood up on the benches.

Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down beside me, opposite of the ghost in the ruff we'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Taylor, Harry, and I at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Not a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

We all clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Harry and I looked down at our empty gold plates. I frowned, I wanted food. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry had an odd face, and I was out right laughing.

"Is he - a bit mad?" he asked Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Taylor?"

Harry's and I's mouths fell open. The dishes in front of us were now piled with food. I had never seen so many things that I liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, baked potatoes, rhubarb potatoes, mashed potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some weird reason, peppermint humbugs.

Harry piled his plate, I piled my plate, and Taylor piled her plate. I had never tasted something so divine in m whole short life. Wait, where did I learn the word divine? Meh, probably Taylor.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Taylor cut into her steak.

"Can't you-?" Harry asked but was cut off.

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you - you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy- " the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."

Harry, Taylor, and I looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding...

As I helped myself to a few treacle tarts, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me - he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned - but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult - "; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing - ")

"What about you girls?" Seamus asked Taylor.

"Were muggleborn, didn't know we were witches until Hagrid came and broke open our door. He came to make sure Harry had gotten his letter, but he was really mad when he found out none of us had gotten our letters - well, we did, but our dad took them away from us and burnt them. He's not the nicest man in the world," Taylor replied scooping up some pudding, "We're Harry's cousins, by the way."

Seamus gasped and all the guys tried to get closer to us, "Harry's cousins? I didn't know he had any magical family left."

Taylor smiled politely and leaned back inconspicuously so that they wouldn't notice. I turned back to Harry's conversation and left Taylor to the mercy of the boys.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Harry had asked Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

So that was Severus Snape? He looked a little... dungeon-ey. With his sallow skin, hooked nose, and creepy greasy black hair.

At last, the desserts too, sadly disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did, all I did was blink up at Dumbledore.

"He's not serious?" Harry muttered to Percy.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. The other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

_"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot, just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot."_

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. The people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as we passed, someone even waved to me, twice Percy led us through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. We climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging our feet, and I was just wondering how much farther we had to walk when we came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves - show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. We all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. We heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as we set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. We all scrambled through it - Neville needed a leg up - and found ourselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed us girls through one door to our dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase - we were obviously in one of the towers - we found our beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Our trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, we pulled on our pajamas and fell into bed

"This is crazy," Taylor muttered to me from her bed next to mine.

"Yeah, but it's an adventure," I murmured back to her, my voice half muffled by the pillow that I had buried my face in when I collapsed into my bed.

"It feels like a dream, like I'll fall asleep and wake up in our room back at the house," she whispered.

"It won't happen," I sighed sleepily, "We're gonna stay here... and learn to be... so awesome."

Before I could hear her reply I had fallen asleep.

Maybe I had eaten to much pudding, but I had the strangest dream.

_ Taylor and I were sitting by a maple tree, except Taylor looked older. Her hair was longer, and her chest was more fuller. She turned to me, "How's your fight with Draco going?" She murmured._

_"Still want to kill him, I said he should clean up his act, and figure out his priorities if we wanna make this work," I replied and gazed up at the sky._

_"If you didn't think it was going to work, why did you say yes?" She said looking in my direction._

_I sighed and looked down at my hands, "I don't know... I guess I just thought he would change?" I brushed a piece of hair behind my ear. "How are things with George? Still awkward?"_

_She sighed, "Yeah. I don't really know how to react, this never really happened before... I feel like he's distancing himself from me."_

_"I know how you feel..." I looked over at some bushes near the lake and saw a flash of red hair and Georges face before I woke up._

I opened my eyes to the top of my three poster bed. I blinked to tired to think about the dream I had just and rolled over and fell asleep again, and when I woke next day, I didn't think about the dream at all.


	9. Double Potions and Hagrid's Secret

**Chapter 9- Double Potions and Hagrid's Secret  
**

**Taylor's P.O.V**

* * *

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the kid with the red hair, and the girls with the brown hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Whispers followed Harry from the moment he left his dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at him, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. I was kinda mad at the kids, they acted like he was a museum or something. And he should be concentrating on his classes, not dodging idiots trying to stare at him.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, I was pretty sure the coats of armor could walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry, Ron, Taylor, and I had managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. Even I wanted to, and I would never harm an animal.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as I quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

We had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week we went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Lexi had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to mess with. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. We were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized we weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, we were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger and, surprisingly Lexi, had made any difference to their match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how they had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione and Lexi a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry, Lexi, and I were very relieved to find out that we weren't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like us, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. Lexi and I had already figured that out. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron and Taylor as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," answered Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them - we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Maybe we'll find out if he actually gave a Slytherin house points because they 'shared' with Gryffindor," snickered Lexi, who was eating a piece of toast.

"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry a second later. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then, the mail arrived. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Hedwig and Blaze hadn't brought Harry or Lexi anything so far. They sometimes flew in to nibble their owners ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, Hedwig and Blaze fluttered down onto the table and dropped a note onto their respective owners plate. Harry tore his open at once. But Lexi just handed the letter to me and scratched Blaze's stomach. When I tore it open It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

_Dear Alexis and Taylor_

_I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? Harry will be joining.  
_

_I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Blaze or Hedwig._

_Hagrid_

I took one of my school quills out of my bag and replied for Lexi and I; _Yes, please, see you later_ on the back of the note, and sent Blaze off again. Harry borrowed Ron's quill and scribbled the same thing before Hedwig soared after Blaze.

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry told me he had gotten the impression that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he said he'd been wrong, I agreed. Snape didn't dislike Harry - he hated him.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name, but strangely enough, he paused at Lexi's and my name. I don't think anyone besides me noticed, though.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Draco and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper to death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged a look with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead. Lexi was listening, but also playing with a quill. I inwardly scoffed, _yeah Lexi, just ignore the meanest teacher the school has_.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand had shot into the air, Lexi's followed slower after that.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione and Lexi's hands.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat. Lexi took her hand down, clearly knowing he wasn't ging to pick her and instead turned her head and glared at Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

A few people laughed; Seamus winked at Harry. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

Lexi rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair, having written down all he had said while he was talking like I did.

* * *

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Draco, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Draco had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Harry and Lexi opened their mouths to argue, but Ron kicked Harry behind their cauldron. Sadly, that didn't stop Lexi.

"That's not fair," she said crossing her arms.

Snape rounded on her with a furious look in his eyes, "I'm sorry, did you just say 'that's not fair'? Life isn't fair, Ms. Dursley. Five points from Gryffindor for disrespecting a teacher."

She angrily threw her hands into the air before muttering under her breath, "Whatever."

* * *

As we climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry was depressed that he had lost two points from Gryffindor already. I had been trying to cheer him up by using Lexi as an example - because she had lost five points in one class - but everyone was flocking her and saying she was awesome and stuff -she didn't seem to enjoy it-, so Harry was still depressed. After I had a try, Ron took over.

"Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you three?"

At five to three we left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked we heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang - back."

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."

He let the four of us in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"This is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke our teeth, but we all pretended to be enjoying them as we told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.

Harry, Lexi, and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her - Filch puts her up to it." I was delighted to hear about that.

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson, and what Lexi had said to him. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, but for Lexi to stick to just taking his attitude because he was always like, Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really hate me," Harry said.

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

Hagrid didn't quite meet Harry's eyes when he said that.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot - great with animals."

I kinda wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy, he and I read it while Lexi drank some tea. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet :

_GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST_

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown._

_Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day._

_"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon._

I remembered Ron telling us on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date.

"Wow," Harry whispered.

"What was so important in the vault that someone would try to _rob_ Gringotts?" I whispered back.

"Hagrid!" said Harry, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were all there!"

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's or my eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Harry and I read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?

As Harry, Lexi, Ron, and I walked back to the castle for dinner, our pockets weighed down with rock cakes we'd been too polite to refuse, I thought that none of the lessons I'd had so far had given me as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell Harry, Lexi, and I?


	10. Kicking Slytherin Butt and Nice Doggy

**_Chapter ten— Kicking Slytherin butt and Nice Dogy  
_**

**_Lexi's P.O.V—_**

* * *

Harry told me he had never believed he would meet a boy he hated more than my brother, but that was before he met Draco Malfoy. I didn't necessarily hate him, just strongly disliked him. Still, first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so we didn't have to put up with Draco much. Or at least, they didn't until we spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made tus all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday - and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Typical," said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

"Your going to be fine, Harry," I said, "We're gonna whip some Slytherin butt!"

Draco certainly did talk about flying a lot, though. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. I felt she'd had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground. I didn't really want to see what would happen to him on a broom.

Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book - not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored us all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

Harry and Lexi hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Draco had been quick to notice, of course. Draco's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things - this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red - oh... " His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "... you've forgotten something..."

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Harry, Ron, and I jumped to our feet. I didn't necessarily want to fight him, just finish what he started in Madame Malkins. But Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Draco quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron, my sister, the other Gryffindors, and I hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under my feet as we marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. I had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

I glanced down at my broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, Mine and Taylor's a second after that, but they were one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed us how to mount our brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry and Ron had delighted looks on their face when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two-"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and -

WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," HI heard her mutter. "Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Draco burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," I snapped at the same time as Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you two'd like fat little crybabies."

"Look!" said Draco, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Draco smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Draco had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom.

"No!" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble."

"Harry! Don't do it, he's just goading you," Taylor exclaimed.

Harry ignored her and Hermione. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and I gasped and heard an admiring whoop from Ron.

"He's going to kill himself," Taylor whispered.

He turned his broomstick sharply to face Draco in midair. Draco looked stunned.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

I didn't hear Draco's reply but saw what Harry did next.

He leaned forward and it shot toward Draco like a javelin. Draco only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people beside me were clapping and I gave them a warning look.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.

"Catch it if you can, then!" Draco shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

The ball rose up in the air and then started to fall. Harry leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down - next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball - I could hear people beside me screaming but all I could see was Harry, falling, falling - he stretched out his hand - a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. I let out a relived breath of air realizing that I had been holding it in.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Professor McGonagall was running toward them. Harry got to his feet.

"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts-"

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, " - how dare you - might have broken your neck-"

"But Harry was jut trying to-"

"Be quiet, Miss Dursley-"

"But Harry was jut trying to-"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

I turned around to see Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle watching Harry leave with triumph looks on their faces. I glared at them but left them alone, they weren't worth my time.

"What do you think McGonagall's going to do with Harry?" Taylor whispered, watching Harry disappear.

I sighed, "I don't know, guess we'll have to wait to find out."

* * *

It was dinnertime. Harry had just finished telling Ron, Taylor, and I what had happened when he'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he'd forgotten all about it.

"Seeker ?" he said. "But first years never - you must be the youngest house player in about-"

"- a century," said Harry, shoveling pie into his mouth. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. "Wood told me."

Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Harry.

"Told you you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself," I said grinning.

"I start training next week," said Harry. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

I put a hand to my heart and nodded, "Family's honor."

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry, and hurried over.

"Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too - Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Draco, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Draco. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Draco looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Draco had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other.

"What is a wizard's duel?" I asked. "And what do you mean, you're Harry's second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on our faces, he added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested.

"Excuse me."

They both looked up. It was Hermione Granger.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron.

Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying-"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered.

"- and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"They'll be fine," Taylor muttered with a sigh.

"Good-bye," said Ron.

* * *

I can't believe Harry's actually doing this," I whispered, watching behind one of the couches with Taylor as Harry and Ron came down the stairs from their dorms.

She sighed, "Its official. Our cousin is crazy."

I laughed, "Yep, so what do you think'll happen?"

Shrugging she looked at me, "I don't know, maybe he'll turn Draco into a peacock so that we wont have to deal with him."

I blinked as a lamp was turned on and Hermione Granger came into sight, "How did we not notice she was there?"

"I have no clue. Now shut up and listen to the conversation."

I peeked around the couch and saw Ron and Harry wearing bathrobes.

"You!" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped, "Percy - he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

"Come on," he said to Ron. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole.

Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose.

The portrait closed behind them.

"Yikes," Taylor whistled lowly

"I think we should probably open the door..."

"That'd be best," Taylor relied.

We both stood up and padded over to the portrait hole in our nightgowns.

I opened the door and walked out with Taylor behind me. Three pairs of eyes blinked at me before Hermione opened her mouth and shrieked her eyes wild, "Its going to-!"

BANG. The portrait slammed shut and I whipped around to see Taylor's sheepish face.

"... sorry?"

Hermione moaned and buried her face in her hands, "This is just great. D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all five of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you two can back me up," she turned to face Taylor and I, I shrugged.

"You've got some nerve - " said Ron loudly.

"Shut up!" said Harry sharply. "I heard something."

It was a sort of snuffling.

"Mrs. Norris?" breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.

It wasn't Mrs. Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."

"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere," Taylor said.

"How's your arm?" said Harry.

"Fine," said Neville, showing us. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good - well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later-"

"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet, "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville.

"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you. Taylor and Lexi, you can come if you want to."

Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned us all forward.

We flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. We sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.

Draco and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. We edged along the walls, keeping our eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Harry took out his wand and the minutes crept by.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

Then a noise in the next room made us jump. Harry had only just raised his wand when we heard someone speak - and it wasn't Draco.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Harry waved madly at us to follow him as quickly as possible; we scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when I heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," I heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to us and, petrified, we began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. I could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor.

The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

"RUN!" Harry yelled, and the six of us sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following - we swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead, without any idea where we were or where we were going - we ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which I knew was miles from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.

"I - told - you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, "I - told - you."

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Ron, "quickly as possible."

"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you - Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

"Figures - the wimp - would - do that," I wheezed trying to catch my breath.

"Let's go."

It wasn't that simple. We hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom right in front of us.

It was Peeves. He caught sight of us and gave a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves - please - you'll get us thrown out."

Peeves cackled.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves, this was a big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Ducking under Peeves, we all ran for our lives, right to the end of the corridor where we slammed into a door - and it was locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned, as we pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!"

I could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves's shouts.

"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!"

The lock clicked and the door swung open - we piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed our ears against it, listening.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me."

"Say 'please.'"

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go ?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.

"All right - please."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" And I heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered. "I think we'll be okay - get off, Neville!" Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry's bathrobe for the last minute. "What ?"

Harry and I turned around - and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he'd walked into a nightmare - this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.

We weren't in a room, as I had supposed. We were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now I knew perfectly well why it was forbidden, and why Dumbledore said about a horrible unpleasant death.

We were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and I knew that the only reason we weren't all already dead was that our sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

We fell backward - Harry slammed the door shut, and we ran, heck we almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for us somewhere else, because ( didn't see him anywhere, but I hardly cared - all I wanted to do was put as much space as possible between me and that monster. We didn't stop running until we reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces.

"Never mind that - pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and the portrait swung forward. We scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.

It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again. "You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on."

"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No. It was standing on trapdoor, wasn't it?" Taylor said.

"Yes, it was."

She stood up, glaring at Ron, Harry, and Neville.

"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

Taylor I followed after her, waving goodnight to Harry, Ron, and Neville.

When we got up there Hermione was already in her bed. She probably wasn't sleeping but she ignored us anyway.

Taylor and I flopped into our beds and Taylor immediately fell asleep.

But Hermione and Taylor had given me something else to think about as I laid in my bed trying to fall asleep. The dog was guarding something... What had Hagrid said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide - except perhaps Hogwarts.

It looked as though I had found out where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was.

* * *

**Done! Like it? Hate it?  
**


	11. The Impossible and We're Your Friends

**Chapter 11- The Impossible and We're Your Friends  
**

**Taylor's P.O.V**

* * *

Draco couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. Indeed, by the next morning Harry, Lexi, and Ron thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and they were quite keen to have another one. Me on the other hand... not so much. In the meantime, we filled Ron in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron.

"Or both," said Harry.

"Or," I suggested, "Someone doesn't want it to fall in the wrong hands."

But all we knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, we didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues.

Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again.

Hermione was now refusing to speak to Harry and Ron, they both said it was a bonus. All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and I was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of Harry, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

**_DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE._**

_It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session._

_Professor McGonagall_

Harry handed the note to Ron to read, who then handed it to Lexi, and I gasped after she handed it to me.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even touched one."

"Ron," I hissed, "With your luck half of London would have heard!"

"Oh calm down, Taylor." Lexi said gathering her stuff, "Lets go take a look a this thing."

We all left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Draco seized the package from Harry and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

"It's not any old broomstick, _Malfoy._" She bragged, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron and Lexi grinned at Harry.

"Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus," Ron finished.

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Draco snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Draco's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, children?" he squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Draco quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, it is," said Harry. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.

We headed upstairs, smothering our laughter at Draco's obvious rage and confusion.

"Well, it's true," Harry chortled as we reached the top of the marble staircase, "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team..."

"Yeah," laughed Lexi, "It's-"

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind us. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.

"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."

I nudged him in the ribs and Lexi hissed, "Shut up."

Hermione marched away with her nose in the air.

We all shoved the food down our throats at dinner time, and then rushed upstairs to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last.

"Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's bedspread.

Even I, who knew nothing about the different brooms - and didn't really care- thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.

* * *

The setting sun shown off the black lake in a hypnotizing scene. Harry had gone for his first Quidditch lesson with Oliver Wood and I needed some peace and quiet.

Sighing, I shifted the big book in my lap. It was about Herbology, I hadn't read up about that subject yet. The book was kinda boring to me, so I finally gave up on reading it and placed my hands behind my head.

Off in the distance I could see two figures walking. One of them sort of looked like my sister... but that wasn't right because she was back in the dorms reading a potion book. Well... I think she is. Squinting, I leaned forward from the oak tree that I was resting against. I could see bright blonde hair, almost white. And long, wavy brown hair.

Wait... Blonde hair... long wavy brown hair.

My sister was walking with Draco Malfoy?! That's it, my cousin _and _my sister are crazy. They just have to me.

I rolled my eyes and rested back against the tree. Whatever, I thought, I'll just deal with it another day.

* * *

On Halloween morning I woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something we had all been dying to try since we'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Harry's partner was Seamus Finnigan (which was a relief, because Neville had been trying to catch his eye). Ron, however, was to be working with Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. She hadn't spoken to either Ron or Harry since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived. I was thankfully paired with Lexi.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

It was kinda hard, I guess. my sister and I swished and flicked, but the feather we were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop.

Seamus, Harry's partner, got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it - Harry had to put it out with his hat.

Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong," I heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing- gar -dium Levi- o -sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled. Lexi snickered.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

One minute later, Lexi and I had our feathers floating in the air.

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to us as we pushed our way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly."

Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. I caught a glimpse of her face - and was startled to see that she was in tears.

"I think she heard you."

"So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."

Lexi glared, "Ron! That is so rude! You made the poor girl _cry_! And all you can say is that she has no friends?"

Ron looked down at the ground and muttered, "Sorry."

Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On our way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, we overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione out of Harry and Ron's minds. Not mine and Lexi's, though.

A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet. It was cool, but Lexi and I didn't stay for long and escaped out of the Hall to go to the girls bathroom.

When we entered I could hear sniffling from a stall right away.

"Hermione?" I called softly.

"Go away," she demanded, but I could hear the tears in her voice.

"We're sorry, for what Ron said. I know it's not our fault that he's a jerk, but he still shouldn't have said that. You do have friends, we're your friends."

I _was_ sorry for what Ron said. She hadn't meant to annoy anyone with her bossiness, she was a eleven year old girl in a new world that she didn't even know existed a few months ago.

She was silent for a few seconds before she opened the stall door and came out. She wiped the tear tracks off her face and, giving us a watery smile murmured, "Thanks."

Lexi smiled and skipped over to her, enveloping her in a hug. Hermione seemed surprised for a second before she hesitantly hugged Lexi back. Walking over to Hermione and Lexi, I giggled and hugged them. I was to happy to notice that I had giggled.

We all let go of each other and Lexi frowned, "We really are sorry for what Ron said, he shouldn't have said it," she had a thoughtful look on her face for a second, "Then again, he probably wouldn't have any friends if it wasn't for Harry." She gasped and her hand flew to her mouth, "Oh merlin that was a really mean thing to say. Please don't tell Ron."

Hermione laughed and gave us a genuine smile, promising she wouldn't tell a soul.

"Wait," I questioned, "Where did you get the saying 'oh merlin' for exactly?"

She shrugged, "Heard some seventh years saying it, it sounded cool so I thought I'd try it out."

I sighed, "Oh Lexi."

"What?"

"Nothing... nothing."

"What?!"

Hermione was watching us with a bemused look.

"What?"

"Nothing... it's just you both are so... carefree," she replied, "How do you do it?"

"Its really easy, all you got to do is have fun!" Lexi replied throwing her arms in the air.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply when her eyes widened and she let out a terrified scream.

Lexi and I whipped around and screamed at the same time. Standing 5 meters in front of us, was a fully grown mountain troll.


	12. Looks

Someone asked what Lexi and Taylor looked like,

Lexi- Wavy light brown hair down to her waist, she's tall and has the same eyes as Taylor's- Light brown with a darker ring on the outside- she has a narrow face, and full lips. (no acne)

Taylor- Light brown hair to the middle of her back, she's taller than Harry, but shorter that Lexi. Same eyes as Lexi -Light brown with a darker ring on the outside- narrow face and normal lips. (no acne)


	13. Troll Boogies and Taking The Blame

**_Chapter Twelve— Troll Boogies and Taking The Blame  
_**

**_Lexi's P.O.V—_**

* * *

We were all shrinking against the wall opposite when Harry and Ron ran in. Hermione looked as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on us, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

I vaguely heard Harry say something to Ron, and, seizing a tap, Ron threw it as hard as he could against the wall.

The troll stopped a few feet from the three of us. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes turned to Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly head toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it towards us.

"Come on, run, run!" Harry yelled at us, trying to pull Hermione toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror.

"Come on Hermione! We have to go," I exclaimed desperately tugging on Her arm.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid as Taylor would have put it - I just thought it was kinda cool - : He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped - it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils. I grimaced and thought I heard Taylor gagging.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club. But was very good thinking.

Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright, Taylor with her; "Ron!" She cried, "Help him!" Ron pulled out his own wand and cried, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over - and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

I winced and gagged at the crack.

Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and heaving for breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done.

It was Hermione and Taylor who spoke first.

"Is it - dead?"

"I don't think so," said Harry, "I think it's just been knocked out."

"I hope so," I said.

Harry bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue.

"Urgh - troll boogies."

He wiped it on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made us all look up. I hadn't realized what a racket we had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. I had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down.

Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

"Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last.

"I went looking for the troll because I - I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know, because I've read all about them."

"We were going to help her," I said, "Taylor and I, that is."

Taylor nodded and Hermione gave me a grateful look.

"If they hadn't found us, we'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish us off when they arrived."

Harry and Ron tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them.

"Well - in that case... " said Professor McGonagall, staring at the three of them, "You foolish girls, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione and Taylor hung their heads.

"Fifteen points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in all of you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione, Taylor, and I left.

The common room was packed and noisy when Harry and Ron finally entered. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, Taylor, and I, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for the two of them. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, Hermione, Harry, and Ron not looking at each other, all said "Thanks," and we all hurried off to get plates.

But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became our friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.

I had a feeling we would have more of these 'little' adventures.


	14. Quidditch and Christmas

**_Chapter Thirteen— Quidditch and Christmas  
_**

**_Taylor's P.O.V—_**

* * *

As we entered into November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. It was a very pretty sight. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship. I was really happy for Harry, I really was. But... I was just a little worried, Quidditch was apparently a dangerous game and he could get really hurt. And Lexi seemed happy that Draco was in Slytherin, she seemed confident we would win.

Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. But of course Harry had told us what had happened as soon as it happened, plus the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and Harry had confided in me and told me he didn't know which was worse - people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress.

It was really lucky that Harry now had Hermione _and _ me as a friend. Hermione always helped him with his homework so I no longer had to deal with that. She had also lent him _Quidditch Through the Ages_, which turned out to be a very interesting read (not saying that I read it or anything- okay maybe I did briefly).

There were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert. See why I was worried?

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry and Ron had saved us from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the five of us were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured us up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. We were standing with our backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. I noticed at once that Snape was limping, and Harry seemed to have noticed as well. We all moved closer together to block the fire from view; I was pretty sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about our guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell us off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

It was _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Harry showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Ron bitterly.

"Ron," I hissed and he slumped.

"What?! He's bloody horrible to us!"

"Its still rude," I muttered giving him a disapproving look.

* * *

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. The five of us sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway. I had ased Lexi if she wanted to use my trasfiguration homework , but it turns out she's _really_ good in that subject.

Harry stood up and announced that he was going to ask Snape if he could have _Quidditch Through the Ages_ back.

"Better you than me," We all said together.

About five minutes later Harry was running up the stairs, his face flushed and chest heaving.

"Did you get it?" Ron asked as Harry joined us. "What's the matter?"

In a low whisper, Harry told them what we'd seen.

"You know what this means?" He finished breathlessly.

"He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when I saw him - he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!" Harry finished.

Hermione's eyes were wide.

"No - he wouldn't," she said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

"Who knows," I said, "It must be special though. With a dog like _that_, I'd make it keep something big safe."

"Or Maybe its something small and valuable..." Lexi said.

* * *

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

"You've got to eat some breakfast." Lexi said in exasperation.

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

"Harry, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus," said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.

"That wasn't helpful Seamus." I added throwing a piece of my pancake at him. "Don't listen to him, Harry. You'll do fine, just _please _eat something," I said and he shrugged, putting a piece of sausage on his fork.

* * *

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron, Hermione, Lexi and I joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, we had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then I had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green).

Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room and walked onto the field to loud cheers.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he's going to sc - no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle - that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she's really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goal posts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

We all squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join us.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.

Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch.

When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let off his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

In a great rush Harry dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch - all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

Harry was faster than Higgs -

WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below - Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In soccer you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't soccer, Dean," Ron reminded him.

Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul..."

"Jordan, I'm warning you-"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, I thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees.

It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goal-posts. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.

Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet - passes Bell - hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose - only joking, Professor - Slytherins score - A no..."

The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... but he can't have..."

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic - no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, gray-faced.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape - look."

She handed me the binoculars and I looked towards Snape. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

Ron grabbed the binoculars. After he had looked he handed them to Lexi.

"He's doing something - jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?"

"Leave it to us." Hermione and I said together sharing an evil grin.

Before Ron could say another word, Hermione and I had disappeared.

The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good - every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

Hermione and I had fought our way across to the stand where Snape stood, and were now racing along the row behind him; Hermione didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well-chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. I scooped the fire off him into a little jar in my pocket, we scrambled back along the row - Snape would never know what had happened.

It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron said as we sat back down. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.

Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick - he hit the field on all fours - coughed - and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference - Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results - Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. None of heard any of this, though. We were all being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut.

"It was Snape," Ron was explaining, "We all saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

We looked at one another, wondering what to tell him. Harry decided on the truth.

"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

"It's true! Harry heard him say 'Blasted thing, how are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?' With Filch!"

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.

"Fluffy ?"

"Yeah - he's mine - bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year - I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it." Lexi persisted.

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione.

The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape.

"Taylor, Lexi, and I know a jinx when we see one, Hagrid, we've both read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, we saw him!" Hermione shouted.

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh - yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel-"

"Aha!" said Harry, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked absolutely furious with himself.

* * *

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, we all woke to find Hogwarts covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

He was looking over at Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Harry, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them. Draco had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Draco, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry about having no proper family.

It was true that Harry wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Harry had signed up at once, along with Lexi and I. Ron and his brothers were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie, one of Ron's older brothers.

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Draco's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dived at Draco just as Snape came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of the front of Draco's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Draco's back, "one of these days, I'll get him-"

"I hate them both," said Harry, "Malfoy and Snape."

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the five of us followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree - put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me - we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," I told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here - I've told yeh - drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Lexi added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere - just give us a hint - I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin', said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

We had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were we going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time ; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he knew we'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

We had been looking for two weeks, after, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down our necks.

Five minutes later, we walked out of the Library. We went off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Hermione. "And send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione.

Once the holidays had started, we were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. We had the dormitories to ourselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so we were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. We sat by the hour eating anything we could spear on a toasting fork - bread, English muffins, marshmallows - and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work. While I read one of the books I had brought from home.

I was reading silently as Ron taught Harry how to play wizard chess when Fred and George sat down next to me.

"Whatcha reading Taylor?" Fred asked. I showed him the cover.

"Shiver, it's about a werewolf falling in love with this girl after saving her from his pack eating her. I thought it was appropriate considering..." I told them turning back to my book.

"You know they aren't actually like that," George told me seeing the picture of a wolf howling at the moon and catching a glimpse of the page.

"Yeah, I read about them in my school books," I answered as they rolled their eyes giving me a growl and werewolf claws and I laughed as I did it back before turning back to my book.

Ron had started teaching Harry wizard chess. This was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Ron's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family - in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.

Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. "Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him."

On Christmas Eve, we went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting many presents. When we woke early in the morning, however, the first thing I saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of my bed.

"Merry Christmas," said Lexi sleepily as I scrambled out of bed and pulled on my bathrobe.

"You, too," I replied.

I picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it were the words _To Taylor, from Hagrid_. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. I blew it - it sounded a bit like an owl. Cute.

A second, very small parcel contained a note.

We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Mum, Dad and Dudley. Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

"That's friendly," I said as I looked at Lexi opening hers finding the same thing.

"We should go see Harry and Ron," I suggested.

"After we open presents, give the gifts from Mum and Dad to Ron. He might like it," Lexi replied.

I nodded and put them in some parchment and inside the box from that had contained Hagrid's gift. I scribbled '_Merry Christmas Ron! From Taylor and Lexi_' and stuck it in the box.

I picked up a very lumpy parcel next, "who's this from?" I asked Lexi.

"Ron's mum I think, he told her we weren't expecting many presents I assume," She shrugged and opened hers. It was a thick, hand-knitted sweater in dark purple and a large box of homemade fudge. Lexi's was identical.

"That was sweet of her," I said trying the fudge -which by the way was delicious-. My next present was a gift from Hermione. It contained a large box of Chocolate Frogs.

After Lexi and I had pulled on our sweaters we headed to the boys dorm in bunny slippers.

"Merry Christmas Harry!" I hugged Harry and then I handed Ron his gift and hugged him as well.

Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence.

"Weird!" he said, "What a shape! This is money ?"

Before we could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look - Harry, Lexi and Taylor got Weasley sweaters too!"

Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're called Gred and FoHarry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. "Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him."

On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When he woke early in the morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.

"Merry Christmas," said Ron sleepily as Harry scrambled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe.

"You, too," said Harry. "Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry's.

Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it - it sounded a bit like an owl.

A second, very small parcel contained a note.

We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

"That's friendly," said Harry.

Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence.

"Weird!" he said, "What a shape! This is money ?"

"You can keep it," said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. "Hagrid and my aunt and uncle - so who sent these?"

"I think I know who that one's from," said Ron, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mom. I told her you didn't expect any presents and - oh, no," he groaned, "she's made you a Weasley sweater."

Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.

"Every year she makes us a sweater," said Ron, unwrapping his own, "and mine's always maroon."

"That's really nice of her," said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty.

His next present also contained candy - a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.

This only left one parcel. Harry picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it.

Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.

"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is - they're really rare, and really valuable."

"What is it?"

Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

"It's an invisibility cloak," said Ron, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is - try it on."

Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and Ron gave a yell.

"It is! Look down!"

Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible. He pulled the cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.

"There's a note!" said Ron suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"

Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:

Your father left this in my possession before he died.

It is time it was returned to you.

Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.

There was no signature. Harry stared at the note. Ron was admiring the cloak.

"I'd give anything for one of these," he said. "Anything. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," said Harry. He felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father?

Before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. Harry stuffed the cloak quickly out of sight. He didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else yet.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look - Harry's got a Weasley sweater, too!"

Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.

"Harry's is better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Harry's sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're called Gred and Forge." I giggled.

"What's all this noise?"

Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.

"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry, Lexi and Taylor got one."

"I - don't - want - " said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.

"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," said George. "Christmas is a time for family."

They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.

We had never in all his life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce - and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. We watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to my amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided."

When we finally left the table, we were laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of nonexplodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and Harry got his own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Harry had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris's Christmas dinner.

Harry. Lexi, the Weasleys and I spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. He suspected he wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help him so much.

After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge.

It had been our best and most fun christmas yet. I suspected that we would have better ones in the future, but for now I was happy with what I had.

* * *

**I hope you liked it! I wrote it by myself -Lexi edited it-. Have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! **

**- Taylor -**


	15. Exams and Dragons

**Chapter 15 - Exams and Dragons**

**Taylor's P.O.V**

* * *

Quirrell, however, must have been braver than we'd thought. In the weeks that followed he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn't look as though he'd cracked yet.

Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, we would press our ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe. Whenever Harry passed Quirrell these days he gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron had started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter.

Hermione, however, had more on her mind than the Sorcerer's Stone. She had started drawing up study schedules and color coding all her notes. Harry and Ron wouldn't have minded, but she kept nagging them to do the same.

"Hermione, the exams are ages away."

"Ten weeks," Hermione snapped. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminded her. "Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it's an A."

"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realize we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me..."

Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with her, Lexi and I trying to get through all our extra work.

"I'll never remember this," Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day we'd had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming.

Harry, who was looking up "Dittany" in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, didn't look up until he heard Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.

"Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Lexi impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer's St-"

"Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," said Harry, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy-"

"SHHHH!" said Hagrid again. "Listen - come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh-"

"See you later, then," said Harry.

Hagrid shuffled off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" said Hermione thoughtfully.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?"

"I'm going to see what section he was in," said Ron, who'd had enough of working. He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table.

"Dragons!" he whispered. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told us so the first time we ever met him, " I said.

"But it's against our laws," said Ron. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden - anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" said Harry.

"Of course there are," said Ron. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

"So what on earth's Hagrid up to?" said Hermione.

When we knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, we were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called "Who is it?" before he let us in, and then shut the door quickly behind us.

It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made us tea and offered us stoat sandwiches, which we refused.

"So - yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes," said Harry. There was no point beating around the bush. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Sorcerer's Stone apart from Fluffy."

Hagrid frowned at him.

"O' course I can't," he said. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts - I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid's beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling. "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really." Hermione went on. "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. Harry and Ron beamed at Hermione.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that... let's see... he borrowed Fluffy from me... then some o' the teachers did enchantments... Professor Sprout - Professor Flitwick - Professor McGonagall - " he ticked them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrell - an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

"Snape?"

"Yeah - yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

I knew Harry, Ron, Hermione and Lexi were thinking the same as I was. If Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything - except, it seemed, Quirrell's spell and how to get past Fluffy.

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy. aren't you, Hagrid?" said Harry anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly.

"Well, that's something," Harry muttered to the others. "Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."

"Can't, Harry, sorry," said Hagrid. I noticed him glance at the fire. Harry looked at it, too.

"Hagrid - what's that ?"

But I already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.

"Ah," said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard, "That's - er..."

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."

"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" said Hermione.

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library - Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit - it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on I em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here - how ter recognize diff'rent eggs - what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn't.

"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," she said.

But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire.

So now they had something else to worry about: what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut.

"Wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life," Ron sighed, as evening after evening we struggled through all the extra homework they were getting. Hermione had now started making study schedules for Harry and Ron, too. It was driving them nuts. Lexi found it quite amusing.

Then, one breakfast time, Hedwig brought Harry another note from Hagrid. He had written only two words: It's hatching.

Ron wanted to skip Herbology and go straight down to the hut. Hermione wouldn't hear of it.

"Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?"

"We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing-"

"Shut up!" Harry whispered.

Malfoy was only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to listen. How much had he heard? I didn't like the look on Malfoy's face at all.

Ron and Hermione argued all the way to Herbology and in the end, Hermione agreed to run down to Hagrid's with the other two during morning break. When the bell sounded from the castle at the end of our lesson, the three of us dropped our trowels at once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greeted us, looking flushed and excited.

"It's nearly out." He ushered us inside.

The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in it. Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it.

We all drew chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath.

All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It wasn't exactly pretty; I thought it looked like a crumpled, black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body, it had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes.

It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.

"Isn't he beautiful ?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!" said Hagrid.

"Hagrid," said Hermione, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid was about to answer when the color suddenly drained from his face - he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains - it's a kid - he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Harry and I bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking him.

Malfoy had seen the dragon.

Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy's face during the next week made us very nervous. We spent most of our free time in Hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him.

"Just let him go," Harry urged. "Set him free."

"I can't," said Hagrid. "He's too little. He'd die."

We looked at the dragon. It had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mommy?"

"He's lost his marbles," Ron muttered in Harry's ear loud enough for me to hear.

"Hagrid," said Lexi loudly, "give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."

Hagrid bit his lip.

"I - I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't."

I suddenly turned to Ron. "Charlie." I said.

"You're losing it, too," said Ron. "I'm Ron, remember?"

"No - Charlie - your brother, Charlie. In Romania. Studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"

"Brilliant!" said Ron. "How about it, Hagrid?"

And in the end, Hagrid agreed that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him.

The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Hermione and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry's invisibility cloak. He had been down at Hagrid's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.

"It bit me!" he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

There was a tap on the dark window.

"It's Hedwig!" said Harry, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Charlie's answer!"

The five of us put our heads together to read the note.

_Dear Ron,_

_How are you? Thanks for the letter - I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon._

_Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark._

_Send me an answer as soon as possible._

_Love,_

_Charlie_

They looked at one another.

"We've got the invisibility cloak," said Harry. "It shouldn't be too difficult - I think the cloaks big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."

It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that we agreed with him. Anything to get rid of Norbert - and Malfoy.

There was a hitch. By the next morning, Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size. He didn't know whether it was safe to go to Madam Pomfrey - would she recognize a dragon bite? By the afternoon, though, he had no choice. The cut had turned a nasty shade of green. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous.

Harry, Hermione, Lexi and I rushed up to the hospital wing at the end of the day to find Ron in a terrible state in bed.

"It's not just my hand," he whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me - I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me - I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."

Harry and Hermione tried to calm Ron down.

"It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," said Hermione, but this didn't soothe Ron at all. On the contrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat.

"Midnight on Saturday!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Oh no oh no - I've just remembered - Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert."

We didn't get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made us leave, saying Ron needed sleep.

"It's too late to change the plan now," Harry told Hermione. "We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. And we have got the invisibility cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."

We found Fang, the boarhound, sitting outside with a bandaged tail when we went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to us.

"I won't let you in," he puffed. "Norbert's at a tricky stage - nothin' I can't handle."

When we told him about Charlie's letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.

"Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot - jus' playin' - he's only a baby, after all."

The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. We walked back to the castle feeling Saturday couldn't come quickly enough.

We would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say good-bye to Norbert if we hadn't been so worried about what we had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night, and we were a bit late arriving at Hagrid's hut because we'd had to wait for Peeves to get out of our way in the entrance hall, where he'd been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.

"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," said Hagrid in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to me as though the teddy was having his head torn off.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and I covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. "Mommy will never forget you!"

How we managed to get the crate back up to the castle, we will never know. Midnight ticked nearer as we heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another - even one of Harry's shortcuts didn't make the work much easier.

"Nearly there!" Harry panted as they reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower.

Then a sudden movement ahead of us made us almost drop the crate. Forgetting that we were already invisible, we shrank into the shadows, staring at the dark outlines of two people grappling with each other ten feet away. A lamp flared.

Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Malfoy by the ear.

"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you-"

"You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter's coming - he's got a dragon!"

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on - I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"

The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until we'd stepped out into the cold night air did we throw off the cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again. I did a sort of jig.

"Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!"

"Don't," Harry advised me.

Chuckling about Malfoy, we waited, Norbert thrashing about in his crate. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the darkness.

Charlie's friends were a cheery lot. They showed Harry and I the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then Harry and I shook hands with the others and thanked them very much.

At last, Norbert was going... going... gone.

We slipped back down the spiral staircase, our hearts as light as our hands, now that Norbert was off us. No more dragon - Malfoy in detention - what could spoil our happiness?

The answer to that was waiting at the foot of the stairs. As we stepped into the corridor, Filch's face loomed suddenly out of the darkness.

"Well, well, well," he whispered, "we are in trouble."

We'd left the invisibility cloak on top of the tower.

* * *

**Mwahahahaha! Cliff Hanger! I hope you enjoy it! Hehe**


	16. Centaurs and Unicorns

**Chapter 16 - Centaurs and Unicorns**

**Taylor's P.O.V**

* * *

Things couldn't have been worse.

Filch took us down to Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor, where we sat and waited without saying a word to each other. I was trembling. Excuses, alibis, and wild cover-up stories chased each other around my brain, each more feeble than the last. I couldn't see how we were going to get out of trouble this time. We were cornered. How could we have been so stupid as to forget the cloak? There was no reason on earth that Professor McGonagall would accept that for our being out of bed and creeping around the school in the dead of night, let alone being up the tallest astronomy tower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes. Add Norbert and the invisibility cloak, and we might as well be packing their bags already. I couldn't let that happen. We can't go home, I can't leave Lexi and mum and dad would treat Harry even worse now then before we came to Hogwarts. And I couldn't allow that.

Had Harry thought that things couldn't have been worse? He was wrong. When Professor McGonagall appeared, she was leading Neville.

"Harry!" Neville burst out, the moment he saw us. "I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag-"

Harry shook his head violently to shut Neville up, but Professor McGonagall had seen. She looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towered over the us.

"I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr. Filch says you were up in the astronomy tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. Explain yourselves."

It was the first time I had ever failed to answer a teacher's question. I was staring at my slippers, as still as a statue.

"I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on," said Professor McGonagall. "It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I've already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?"

I caught Neville's eye and tried to tell him without words that this wasn't true, because Neville was looking stunned and hurt. Poor, blundering Neville - I knew what it must have cost him to try and find us in the dark, to warn us.

"I'm disgusted," said Professor McGonagall. "Four students out of bed in one night! I've never heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Dursley, I thought you had more sense. As for you, Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. All three of you will receive detentions - yes, you too, Mr. Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous - and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor."

"Fifty?" Harry gasped - they would lose the lead, the lead he'd won in the last Quidditch match.

"Fifty points each," said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily through her long, pointed nose.

"Professor - please-"

"You can't-"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Potter. Now get back to bed, all of you. I've never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students."

A hundred and fifty points lost. That put Gryffindor in last place. In one night, we'd ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the house cup. I felt as though the bottom had dropped out of my stomach. How could we ever make up for this?

I didn't sleep all night. I could hear Lexi snoring into her pillow for what seemed like hours. I couldn't think of anything to say to comfort Neville, her was probably in his dormitory right now, crying. I knew Neville, like myself, was dreading the dawn. What would happen when the rest of Gryffindor found out what they'd done?

At first, Gryffindors passing the giant hourglasses that recorded the house points the next day thought there'd been a mistake. How could they suddenly have a hundred and fifty points fewer than yesterday? And then the story started to spread: Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, their hero of two Quidditch matches, had lost them all those points, him and a couple of other stupid first years.

From being one of the most popular and admired people at the school, Harry was suddenly the most hated. Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on him, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the house cup. Everywhere Harry went, people pointed and didn't trouble to lower their voices as they insulted him. Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped as he walked past them, whistling and cheering, "Thanks Potter, we owe you one!"

Only we stood by him. (Ron, Hermione, Lexi and I)

"They'll all forget this in a few weeks. Fred and George have lost loads of points in all the time they've been here, and people still like them."

"They've never lost a hundred and fifty points in one go, though, have they?" said Harry miserably.

"Well - no," Ron admitted."

"But _you_ didn't loose a hundred a fifty. You only lost_ fifty_._ I_ lost fifty and _Neville_ lost fifty. It's _together_ that we lost a hundred and fifty." I said to him, trying to cheer him up.

It was a bit late to repair the damage, but Harry swore to himself not to meddle in things that weren't his business from now on. He'd had it with sneaking around and spying. He felt so ashamed of himself that he went to Wood and offered to resign from the Quidditch team.

"Resign?" Wood thundered. "What good'll that do? How are we going to get any points back if we can't win at Quidditch?"

But even Quidditch had lost its fun for Harry. The rest of the team wouldn't speak to Harry during practice, and if they had to speak about him, they called him "the Seeker."

Neville and I were suffering, too. Lexi as well because we were twins and there were only a few things that were different about us, and you would have to stare at us for a while to see them. We didn't have as bad a time as Harry, because we weren't as well-known, but nobody would speak to us, either. I had stopped drawing attention to myself in class, keeping my head down and working in silence.

Harry was almost glad that the exams weren't far away. All the studying he had to do kept his mind off his misery. He, Ron, and Hermione kept to themselves, working late into the night, trying to remember the ingredients in complicated potions, learn charms and spells by heart, memorize the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions...

Then, about a week before the exams were due to start, Harry's new resolution not to interfere in anything that didn't concern him was put to an unexpected test. Walking back from the library on his own one afternoon, he'd heard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead. As he drew closer, he heard Quirrell's voice.

"No - no - not again, please-"

It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Harry moved closer.

"All right - all right - " he heard Quirrell sob.

Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom straightening his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of sight; Harry didn't think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell's footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It was empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Harry was halfway toward it before he remembered what he'd promised himself about not meddling.

All the same, he'd have gambled twelve Sorcerer's Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step - Quirrell seemed to have given in at last.

Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy and Lexi and I were reading up about Herbology. Harry told us what he'd heard.

"Snape's done it, then!" said Ron. "If Quirrell's told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell-"

"There's still Fluffy, though," said Hermione.

"Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid," said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. "I bet there's a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?"

The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron's eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could.

"Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure."

"But we've got no proof!" said Harry. "Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor - who do you think they'll believe, him or us? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore'll think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy. That'll take a lot of explaining."

Hermione looked convinced, but Ron didn't.

"If we just do a bit of poking around-"

"No," said Harry flatly, "we've done enough poking around."

He pulled a map of Jupiter toward him and started to learn the names of its moons.

The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Neville and I at the breakfast table. They were all the same:

_Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight._

_Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall._

_Professor McGonagall_

I had forgotten we still had detentions to do in the furor over the points we'd lost.

At eleven o'clock that night, we said good-bye to Ron and Lexi in the common room and went down to the entrance hall with Neville. Filch was already there - and so was Draco. Harry had also forgotten that Draco had gotten a detention, too.

"Follow me," said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading us outside.

"I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he said, leering at us. "Oh yes... hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me... It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out... hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed... Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

We marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. I wondered what our punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted.

The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing us into darkness. Ahead, I could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then we heard a distant shout.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

My heart rose; if we were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. My relief must have showed on my face, because Filch said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, girl - it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

At this, Neville let out a little moan, and Draco stopped dead in his tracks.

"The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night - there's all sorts of things in there - werewolves, I heard."

Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry's robe and made a choking noise.

"That's your problem, isn't it?" said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. "Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"

Hagrid came striding toward us out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

"Abou' time," he said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Taylor?"

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," said Filch coldly, "they're here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

"I'll be back at dawn," said Filch, "for what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

Draco now turned to Hagrid.

"I'm not going in that forest," he said, and Harry seemed pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd-"

"- tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled. "Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on."

Draco didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but then dropped his gaze.

"Right then," said Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

He led us to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted our hair as we looked into the forest.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Draco who was unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I want Fang," said Draco quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. "So me, Harry, an' Taylor'll go one way an' Draco, Neville, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now - that's it - an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh - so, be careful - let's go."

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it we reached a fork in the earth path, and Harry, me, and Hagrid took the left path while Draco, Neville, and Fang took the right.

We walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.

I saw that Hagrid looked very worried.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Harry asked.

"Not fast enough," said Hagrid. "It's not easy ter catch a unicorn, they're powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before."

We walked past a mossy tree stump. I could hear running water; there must be a stream somewhere close by. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path.

"You all right, Taylor?" Hagrid whispered. "Don' worry, it can't've gone far if it's this badly hurt, an' then we'll be able ter - GET BEHIND THAT TREE!"

Hagrid seized Harry and I and hoisted us off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of us listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.

"I knew it," he murmured. "There's summat in here that shouldn' be."

"A werewolf?" Harry suggested.

"That wasn' no werewolf an' it wasn' no unicorn, neither," said Hagrid grimly. "Right, follow me, but careful, now."

We walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.

"Who's there?" Hagrid called. "Show yerself - I'm armed!"

And into the clearing came - was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Our jaws dropped.

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," said Hagrid in relief. "How are yeh?"

He walked forward and shook the centaur's hand.

"Good evening to you, Hagrid," said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. "Were you going to shoot me?"

"Can't be too careful, Ronan," said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. "There's summat bad loose in this forest. This is Harry Potter an' Taylor Dursley, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's a centaur.

"We'd noticed," I said faintly.

"Good evening," said Ronan. "Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?"

"Erm-"

"A bit," I said timidly.

"A bit. Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, glancing up, too. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt - you seen anythin'?"

Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upward, then sighed again.

"Always the innocent are the first victims," he said. "So it has been for ages past, so it is now."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, "but have yeh seen anythin' Ronan? Anythin' unusual?"

"Mars is bright tonight," Ronan repeated, while Hagrid watched him impatiently. "Unusually bright."

"Yeah, but I was meanin' anythin' unusual a bit nearer home, said Hagrid. "So yeh haven't noticed anythin' strange?"

Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said, "The forest hides many secrets."

A movement in the trees behind Ronan made Hagrid raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and -bodied and wilder-looking than Ronan.

"Hullo, Bane," said Hagrid. "All right?"

"Good evening, Hagrid, I hope you are well?"

"Well enough. Look, I've jus' bin askin' Ronan, you seen anythin' odd in here lately? There's a unicorn bin injured - would yeh know anythin' about it?"

Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He looked skyward. "Mars is bright tonight," he said simply.

"We've heard," said Hagrid grumpily. "Well, if either of you do see anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off, then."

Harry and I followed him out of the clearing, staring over our shoulders at Ronan and Bane until the trees blocked our view.

"Never," said Hagrid irritably, "try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the moon."

"Are there many of them in here?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, a fair few... Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs... they know things... jus' don' let on much."

"D'you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?" said Harry.

"Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what's bin killin' the unicorns - never heard anythin' like it before."

We walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking nervously over his shoulder. I had the nasty feeling they were being watched. I was very glad we had Hagrid and his crossbow with us. We had just passed a bend in the path when I grabbed Hagrid's arm.

"Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"

"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!"

We heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until we couldn't hear anything but the rustling of leaves around us.

"You don't think they've been hurt, do you?" I whispered.

"I don't care if Malfoy has, but if something's got Neville... it's our fault he's here in the first place."

The minutes dragged by. My ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry's seemed to be picking up every sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others?

At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Draco, Neville, and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Draco, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him as a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.

"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups - Neville, you stay with me an' Harry, Taylor, you go with Fang an' this idiot. I'm sorry," Hagrid added in a whisper to me, "but he'll have a harder time frightenin' a girl, an' we've gotta get this done."

So I set off into the heart of the forest with Draco and Fang. We walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. I thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. I could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

"Look - " he murmured, I held up my arm to stop Draco.

Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. We inched closer.

It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. I had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves. It looked as I had always dreamed a Unicorn would look like. But sadder, and dead.

I had taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made me freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered... Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Draco, me and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.

"AAAAAAAAAARGH!"

Draco let out a terrible scream and bolted - so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at me - unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward me - I couldn't move for fear.

I heard hooves behind me, galloping, and something jumped clean over me, charging at the figure.

I fell to my knees. I looked down, not wanting to know what was going on. When I looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over me, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body.

"Are you all right?" said the centaur, pulling me to my feet.

"Yes - thank you - what was that?"

The centaur didn't answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at me, studying me as though I reminded him of someone.

"You are the Potter boys cousin, yes?" he said. "You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time - especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way."

"My name is Firenze," he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that I could clamber onto his back.

There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.

"Firenze!" Bane thundered. "What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"

"Do you realize who this is?" said Firenze. "This is the Potter boys cousin. The quicker she leaves this forest, the better."

"What have you been telling him?" growled Bane. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?"

Ronan pawed the ground nervously. "I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best," he said in his gloomy voice.

Bane kicked his back legs in anger.

"For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!"

Firenze suddenly reared on to his hind legs in anger, so that Harry had to grab his shoulders to stay on.

"Do you not see that unicorn?" Firenze bellowed at Bane. "Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must."

And Firenze whisked around; with me clutching on as best I could, we plunged off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind us.

I didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Why's Bane so angry?" I asked. "What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?"

Firenze slowed to a walk, warned me to keep my head bowed in case of low-hanging branches, but did not answer my question. We made our way through the trees in silence for so long that I thought Firenze didn't want to talk to me anymore. We were passing through a particularly dense patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.

"Taylor Dursley, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

"No," I said, startled by the odd question. "We've only used the horn and tail hair in Potions."

"That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," said Firenze. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."

I stared at the back of Firenze's head, which was dappled silver in the moonlight.

"But who'd be that desperate?" he wondered aloud. "If you're going to be cursed forever, death's better, isn't it?"

"It is," Firenze agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else - something that will bring you back to full strength and power - something that will mean you can never die. Ms. Dursley, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"The Sorcerer's Stone! Of course - the Elixir of Life! But I don't understand who-"

"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"

It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around my heart. Over the rustling of the trees, I seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told me on the night they had met: "Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die."

"Do you mean," I croaked, "that was Vol-"

"Taylor, are you all right?"

Harry was running toward us down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind him.

"I'm fine," I said, hardly knowing what I was saying. "The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there."

"This is where I leave you," Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. "You are safe now."

I slid off his back.

"Good luck, Taylor Dursley and to you, Harry Potter," said Firenze. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times."

He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving Harry and I shivering behind him.

Lexi and Ron had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for us to return, Hermione was sitting awake reading a book. Ron shouted something about Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake. Lexi awakening when Ron screamed. Harry and I began to tell them what had happened in the forest.

Harry couldn't sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking. I sat down next ot Lexi and leaned on her to exhausted to sit up on my own.

"Snape wants the stone for Voldemort... and Voldemort's waiting in the forest... and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich..."

"Stop saying the name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear us.

Harry wasn't listening.

"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so... Bane was furious... he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen... They must show that Voldemort's coming back... Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me... I suppose that's written in the stars as well." I told them in a terrified whisper.

"Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hissed.

"So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Harry went on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off... Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."

Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.

"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."

The sky had turned light before we stopped talking. We went to bed exhausted, ourr throats sore. What was next, who knows. For the first time since we entered the forest I wondered if Harry got his Invisibility Cloak back. If things were gonna keep going the way they were. We would need them.

* * *

**I know, Taylor's P.O.V twice in a row? What does that mean? It means I couldn't write the detention from Lexi's P.O.V so next we will have Lexi's twice and then get back to the normal Taylor, Lexi, Taylor, Lexi pattern. **

**I hope you enjoyed it!**


	17. Taking Exams and Through The Trapdoor

**Chapter 17- Taking Exams and Throught The Trapdoor**

**Lexi's P.O.V**

* * *

In years to come, Harry would never quite remember how he had managed to get through his exams when he half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.

It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where we did our written papers. We had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anticheating spell. They expected us to cheat? Pff. Only Slytherins were that dumb.

We had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called us one by one into his class to see if we could make a pineapple tapdance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched us turn a mouse into a snuffbox - points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made us all nervous, breathing down our necks - which I'm sure isn't allowed - while we tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.

I did the best I could. But it wasn't easy, Snape was constantly watching us. All I could think was, no wonder he's single.

Our very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented selfstirring cauldrons and we'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until our exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told us to put down our quills and roll up our parchment, I couldn't help cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as we joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager."

"Yeah, that was unnessecary but you have to be sure." Taylor added.

Hermione always liked to go through our exam papers afterward, but Ron said this made him feel ill, so we wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows. "No more studying," Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. "You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."

Harry was rubbing his forehead.

"I wish I knew what this means!" he burst out angrily. "My scar keeps hurting - it's happened before, but never as often as this."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested.

"I'm not ill," said Harry. "I think it's a warning... it means danger's coming..."

Ron couldn't get worked up, it was too hot.

"Harry, relax, Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."

When he tried to explain something that ha been nagging at him, Hermione just said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one."

Harry suddenly jumped to his feet scaring us all.

"Where're you going?" said Ron sleepily.

"I've just thought of something," said Harry. He had turned white. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."

"Why?" panted Taylor, hurrying to keep up.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't I see it before?"

"What are you talking about?" said Ron, but Harry, who was sprinting across the grounds toward the forest, didn't answer.

Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.

"Hullo," he said, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"Yes, please," said Ron, but Harry cut him off.

"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," said Hagrid casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off."

The five of us looked at each other stunned and Hagrid raised eyebrows.

"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head - that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."

Harry sank down next to the bowl of peas. "What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up," said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. "Yeah... he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here... He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I took after... so I told him... an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon... an' then... I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks... Let's see... yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted... but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home... So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy..."

"And did he - did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Taylor asked, sinking down next to Harry.

"Well - yeah - how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep-"

Hagrid suddenly looked horrified.

"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey - where're yeh goin'?"

We didn't speak to each other at all until we came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," said Harry. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak - it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office?"

We looked around, hoping to see a sign pointing us in the right direction. We had never been told where Dumbledore lived, nor did we know anyone who had been sent to see him.

"We'll just have to - " Harry began, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.

"What are you three doing inside?"

It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione, rather bravely.

"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"

Harry swallowed - now what?

"It's sort of secret," he said, but he wished at once he hadn't, because Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's gone ?" said Harry frantically. "Now?"

"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time-"

"But this is important."

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"

"Look," said Harry, throwing caution to the winds, "Professor - it's about the Sorcerer's Stone-"

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up.

"How do you know - ?" she spluttered.

"Professor, I think - I know - that Sn - that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

She eyed him with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said finally. I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"But Professor-"

"Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

But they didn't.

"It's tonight," said Harry, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."

"But what can we-"

Hermione gasped. Harry and Ron wheeled round.

Snape was standing there.

"Good afternoon," he said smoothly.

They stared at him.

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he said, with an odd, twisted smile.

"We were - " Harry began, without any idea what he was going to say.

"You want to be more careful," said Snape. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"

Harry flushed. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back.

"Be warned, Potter - any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you."

He strode off in the direction of the staffroom.

Out on the stone steps, Harry turned to face us.

"Right, here's what we've got to do," he whispered urgently. "One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape - wait outside the staff room and follow him if he leaves it. Hermione and Taylor, you'd better do that."

"Why us?" They said together.

"It's obvious," said Ron. "You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know." He put on a high voice, "'Oh Professor Flitwick, I'm so worried, I think I got question fourteen B wrong... '"

"Oh, shut up," said Hermione, but she and Taylor agreed to go and watch out for Snape.

"And we'd better stay outside the third-floor corridor," Harry told Ron and me. "Come on."

But that part of the plan didn't work. No sooner had we reached the door separating Fluffy from the rest of the school than Professor McGonagall turned up again and this time, she lost her temper.

"I suppose you think you're harder to get past than a pack of enchantments!" she stormed. "Enough of this nonsense! If I hear you've come anywhere near here again, I'll take another fifty points from Gryffindor! Yes, Ms. Dursley, from my own house!" She said when I was about to ask.

We went back to the common room, Harry had just said, "At least Hermione and Taylor are on Snape's tail," when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Hermione and Taylor came in.

"I'm sorry, Harry!" she wailed. "Snape came out and asked us what we were doing," Hermione started.

"So I said we was waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to get him, and we only just got away, we don't know where Snape went." Taylor finished.

"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Harry said.

We stared at him. He was pale and his eyes were glittering.

"I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."

"You're mad!" said Ron.

"You can't!" said Hermione. "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!"

"SO WHAT" Harry shouted. "Don't you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn't matter anymore, can't you see? D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the house cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there, it's only dying a bit later than I would have, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you four say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?"

He glared at us.

"You're right Harry," said Hermione in a small voice.

"I'll use the invisibility cloak," said Harry. "It's just lucky I got it back."

"But will it cover all five of us?" said Ron.

"All - all five of us?"

"Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?"

"Of course not," I said briskly. "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and took through my books, there might be something useful..."

"But if we get caught, you four will be expelled, too."

"Not if I can help it," said Hermione grimly. "Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."

After dinner the five of us sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered us; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn't been upset by it. Hermione and Taylor were skimming through all their notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments we were about to try to break. Harry and Ron didn't talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do.

Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.

"Better get the cloak," Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upstairs to their dark dormitory.

He ran back down to the common room.

"We'd better put the cloak on here, and make sure it covers all five of us - if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own-"

"What are you doing?" said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.

"Nothing, Neville, nothing," said Harry, hurriedly putting the cloak behind his back.

Neville stared at their guilty faces.

"You're going out again," he said.

"No, no, no," said Taylor. "No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?"

Harry looked at the grandfather clock by the door. They couldn't afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.

"You can't go out," said Neville, "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."

"You don't understand," said Harry, "this is important."

But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate.

"I won't let you do it," he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll - I'll fight you!"

"Neville," Ron exploded, "get away from that hole and don't be an idiot-"

"Don't you call me an idiot!" said Neville. "I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"

"Yes, but not to us," said Ron in exasperation. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing."

He took a step forward and Neville dropped Trevor the toad, who leapt out of sight.

"Go on then, try and hit me!" said Neville, raising his fists. "I'm ready!"

Harry turned to Taylor and Hermione.

"Do something," he said desperately.

Hermione and Taylor stepped forward.

"Neville," they said, "I'm really, really sorry about this."

They raised their wands.

"Petrificus Totalus!" they cried, pointing it at Neville.

Neville's arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board.

Hermione ran to turn him over. Neville's jaws were jammed together so he couldn't speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking at them in horror.

"What've you done to him?" Harry whispered.

"It's the full Body-Bind," said Hermione miserably. "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry."

"We had to, Neville, no time to explain," said Harry.

"You'll understand later, Neville," said Ron as we stepped over him and pulled on the invisibility cloak.

But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor didn't feel like a very good omen. In our nervous state, every statue's shadow looked like Filch, every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down on them. At the foot of the first set of stairs, we spotted Mrs. Norris skulking near the top.

"Oh, let's kick her, just this once," Ron whispered in Harry's ear, but Harry shook his head. As they climbed carefully around her, Mrs. Norris turned her lamplike eyes on them, but didn't do anything.

We didn't meet anyone else until they reached the staircase up to the third floor. Peeves was bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so that people would trip.

"Who's there?" he said suddenly as they climbed toward him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"

He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them.

"Should call Filch, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen."

Harry had a sudden idea.

"Peeves," he said, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."

Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs.

"So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, Sir," he said greasily. "My mistake, my mistake - I didn't see you - of course I didn't, you're invisible - forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."

"I have business here, Peeves," croaked Harry. "Stay away from this place tonight."

"I will, sir, I most certainly will," said Peeves, rising up in the air again. "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you."

And he scooted off.

"Brilliant, Harry!" whispered Ron and I.

A few seconds later, we were there, outside the third-floor corridor - and the door was already ajar.

"Well, there you are," Harry said quietly, "Snape's already got past Fluffy."

Seeing the open door somehow seemed to impress upon all us what was facing us. Underneath the cloak, Harry turned to us.

"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," he said. "You can take the cloak, I won't need it now."

"Don't be stupid," said Ron and Taylor.

"We're coming," said Hermione and I.

Harry pushed the door open.

As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn't see them.

"What's that at its feet?" Hermione whispered.

"Looks like a harp," said Ron. "Snape must have left it there."

"It must wake up the moment you stop playing," said Harry. "Well, here goes..."

He put Hagrid's flute to his lips and blew. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note the beast's eyes began to droop. Harry hardly drew breath. Slowly, the dog's growls ceased - it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep.

"Keep playing," Ron warned Harry as they slipped out of the cloak and crept toward the trapdoor. They could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads. "I think we'll be able to pull the door open," said Ron, peering over the dog's back. "Want to go first, Hermione?"

"No, I don't!"

"All right." Ron gritted his teeth and stepped carefully over the dog's legs. He bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open.

"What can you see?" Hermione said anxiously.

"Nothing - just black - there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop."

Harry, who was still playing the flute, waved at Ron to get his attention and pointed at himself.

"You want to go first? Are you sure?" said Ron. "I don't know how deep this thing goes. Give the flute to Hermione so she can keep him asleep."

Harry handed the flute over. In the few seconds' silence, the dog growled and twitched, but the moment Hermione began to play, it fell back into its deep sleep.

Harry climbed over it and looked down through the trapdoor. There was no sign of the bottom.

He lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips. Then he looked up at Ron and said, "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig or Blaze to Dumbledore, right?"

"Right," said Ron.

"See you in a minute, I hope..."

And Harry let go.

"It's okay!" Harry called up through the open trapdoor, "it's a soft landing, you can jump!"

"I will go next," said Taylor and she did what Harry had done.

"Okay me now," I did as Taylor and Harry had done and closed my eyes. Cold, damp air rushed past me as I fell down, down, down and -

FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump I landed on something soft. I sat up and felt around, my eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though I was sitting on some sort of plant.

Ron followed right away. He landed, sprawled next to Harry.

"What's this stuff?" Were his first words.

"Dunno, some sort of plant thing. I suppose it's here to break the fall. Come on, Hermione!"

The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on Harry's other side.

"We must be miles under the school," she said.

"Lucky this plant thing's here, really," said Ron.

"Lucky!" shrieked Hermione. "Look at you!"

She leapt up and struggled toward a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles. As for us, our legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without us noticing.

Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as the we fought to pull the plant off them, but the more we strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around us.

"Stop moving!" Hermione ordered them. "I know what this is - it's Devil's Snare!"

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck. "Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" said Hermione.

"Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!" Harry gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.

"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare... what did Professor Sprout say? - it likes the dark and the damp."

"So light a fire!" I choked.

"Yes - of course - but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands.

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"

"Oh, right!" said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames she had used on Snape at the plant. In a matter of seconds, I felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unraveled itself from our bodies, and we were able to pull free.

"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione," said Taylor as we joined her by the wall, wiping sweat off our faces.

"Yeah," said Ron, "and lucky Harry doesn't lose his head in a crisis - 'there's no wood,' honestly."

"This way," said Harry, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.

All we could hear apart from our footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and I was reminded of Gringotts. With an unpleasant jolt of the heart, I remembered the dragons said to be guarding vaults in the wizards' bank. If they met a dragon, a fully-grown dragon - Norbert had been bad enough...

"Can you hear something?" Ron whispered.

Harry listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.

"Do you think it's a ghost?"

"I don't know... sounds like wings to me." Taylor answered.

"There's light ahead - I can see something moving." I said.

We reached the end of the passageway and saw before us a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above us. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" said Ron.

"Probably," said Harry. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once... well, there's no other choice... I'll run."

He took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. He expected to feel sharp beaks and claws tearing at him any second, but nothing happened. He reached the door untouched. He pulled the handle, but it was locked.

We followed after he got across safely. We tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Hermione tried the Alohomora charm.

"Now what?" said Ron.

"These birds... they can't be here just for decoration," said Hermione.

We watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering - glittering ?

"They're not birds!" I said suddenly. "They're keys! Winged keys - look carefully. So that must mean... " I looked around the chamber while the others squinted up at the flock of keys. "...yes - look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"

"But there are hundreds of them!"

Ron examined the lock on the door.

"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one - probably silver, like the handle."

We each seized a broomstick and kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. We grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one.

Not for nothing, though, was Harry the youngest Seeker in a century. He had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, he noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole.

"That one!" he called to us. "That big one - there - no, there - with bright blue wings - the feathers are all crumpled on one side."

Ron went speeding in the direction that Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell off his broom.

"We've got to close in on it!" Harry called, not taking his eyes off the key with the damaged wing. "Ron, you come at it from above - Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down, Taylor and Lexi you go form the sides, I'll try and catch it. Right, NOW!"

Ron dived, Hermione rocketed upward, and Taylor and I sped forward, the key dodged us, and Harry streaked after it; it sped toward the wall, Harry leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Our cheers echoed around the high chamber.

We landed quickly, and Harry ran to the door, the key struggling in his hand. He rammed it into the lock and turned - it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

"Ready?" Harry asked us, his hand on the door handle. We nodded. He pulled the door open.

The next chamber was so dark we couldn't see anything at all. But as we stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

We were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than we were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. We shivered slightly - the towering white chessmen had no faces.

"Now what do we do?" Harry whispered.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Ron. "We've got to play our way across the room."

Behind the white pieces they could see another door.

"How?" said Hermione nervously.

"I think," said Ron, "we're going to have to be chessmen."

He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron.

"Do we - er - have to join you to get across?" The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the us.

"This needs thinking about... " he said. "I suppose we've got to take the place of five of the black pieces..."

We stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, "Now, don't be offended or anything, but none of you are that good at chess-"

"We're not offended," said Harry quickly. "Just tell us what to do."

"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, Hermione, you next to him instead of that castle, Taylor you take the Queen and Lexi you take the other bishop."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to be a knight," said Ron.

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, two bishops, a castle and a queen turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving five empty squares that we took.

"White always plays first in chess," said Ron, peering across the board. "Yes... look..."

A white pawn had moved forward two squares.

Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. My knees were trembling. What if they lost?

"Harry - move diagonally four squares to the right."

The first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.

"Had to let that happen," said Ron, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on."

Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that Harry and Hermione were in danger. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

"We're nearly there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think - let me think..."

The white queen turned her blank face toward him.

"Yes... " said Ron softly, "It's the only way... I've got to be taken."

"NO!" We shouted.

"That's chess!" snapped Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she'll take me - that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"

"But-"

"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"

"Ron-"

"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"

There was no alternative.

"Ready?" Ron called, his face pale but determined. "Here I go - now, don't hang around once you've won."

He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor - Hermione and Taylor screamed but stayed on their squares - the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out.

Shaking, Harry moved three spaces to the left.

The white king took off his crown and threw it at Harry's feet. We had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron, Harry, Hermione and I charged through the door, Taylor was to stay with Ron till Hermione and I came back, and up the next passageway.

"What if he's - ?"

"He'll be all right," said Harry, trying to convince himself. "What do you reckon's next?"

"We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare; Flitwick must've put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell's spell, and Snape's."

We had reached another door.

"All right?" Harry whispered.

"Go on."

Harry pushed it open.

A disgusting smell filled our nostrils, making us pull our robes up over our noses. Eyes watering, we saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one Ron and Harry had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head.

"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry whispered as we stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. "Come on, I can't breathe."

He pulled open the next door, hardly daring to look at what came next - but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Snape's," said Harry. "What do we have to do?"

We stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind us in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. We were trapped.

"Look!" Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Harry and I looked over her shoulder to read it:

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, which ever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

Hermione let out a great sigh and Harry and I, amazed, saw that she was smiling, the very last thing I felt like doing.

"Brilliant," said Hermione. "This isn't magic - it's logic - a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."

"But so will we, won't we?"

"Of course not," said Hermione. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."

"But how do we know which to drink?"

"Give me a minute."

Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands.

"Got it," she said. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire - toward the Stone."

I looked at the tiny bottle.

"There's only enough there for one of us," he said. "That's hardly one swallow."

We looked at each other.

"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?"

Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line.

"You drink that," said Harry. "No, listen, get back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying-key room, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy - go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig of Blaze to Dumbledore, we need him. I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I'm no match for him, really."

"But Harry - what if You-Know-Who's with him?"

"Well - I was lucky once, wasn't I?" said Harry, pointing at his scar. "I might get lucky again."

Hermione's lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him.

"Hermione!"

"Harry - you're a great wizard, you know."

"I'm not as good as you," said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him.

"Me!" said Hermione. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and - oh Harry - be careful!"

"You drink first," said Harry. "You are sure which is which, aren't you?"

"Please do, try and come back alive," I told him.

"Positive," said Hermione. She took a long drink from the round bottle at the end, and shuddered.

"It's not poison?" said Harry anxiously as I took a swallow.

"No - but it's like ice."

"Quick, go, before it wears off."

"Good luck - take care."

"GO!"

Hermione and I turned and walked straight through the purple fire.

We raced to Taylor and Ron and knelt down. Ron seemed to have come-to.

"Where's Harry?" Ron asked groggily.

"He went ahead there wasn't enough for us all to go." Hermione answered.

"So he's alone and facing Snape and possibly You-Know-Who?" Taylor asked with a worried look in her eyes.

"Yeah," I answered.

They nodded.

"He told us to take the brooms and send an Hedwig or Blaze to Dumbledore telling him to come back,"

"Then we better hurry, let's go." We heaved Ron up and walked back grabbing brooms and flying out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy.

We set the brooms down and hurried off.

We stopped dead in our tracks.

Dumbledore was standing in front of us.

"Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?" But before we could reply, he dashed off the the third floor.

"What?"

"I think he's gone after Harry who went after Snape," Taylor answered sounding confused, "at least, I think,"

We stared after where Dumbledore had hurried off, dumb-founded, trying to sort out what was happening.

* * *

**Duda!** **I hope you liked it! This was the hardest chapter to write, you know with it being mostly from Harry's P.O.V and us writing from Taylor and Lexi's P.O.V... But I hope you enjoyed all our hard work!**


	18. Visiting Harry and Going Home

**Chapter 18- Visiting Harry and Going Home**

**Lexi's P.O.V**

* * *

"Just five minutes," we heard Harry pleading with Madam Pomfrey from behind the curtain in the Hospital wing.

"Absolutely not."

"You let Professor Dumbledore in..."

"Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different. You need rest."

"I am resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey..."

"Oh, very well," she said. "But five minutes only."

And she let us in.

"Harry!" We shouted.

Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around him again.

"Oh, Harry, we were sure you were going to - Dumbledore was so worried-"

"I don't know if it was worry we didn't really get a good look at him," I shrugged.

"The whole school's talking about it," said Ron. "What really happened?"

It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumors. Harry told us everything: Quirrell; the mirror; the Stone; and Voldemort. We were a very good audience; we gasped in all the right places, and when Harry told us what was under Quirrell's turban, Hermione screamed out loud.

"So when Fred and George were throwing snowballs at the back of his head they were hitting him in the face?" Taylor asked as I snickered.

"So the Stone's gone?" said Ron finally. "Flamel's just going to die ?"

"That's what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that - what was it? - 'to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.'"

"I always said he was off his rocker," said Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was.

"So what happened to you four?" said Harry.

"We got back all right," said Hermione. "Ron had came-to when Lexi and I got back to them, then we did as you said with the brooms and as we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore we met him in the entrance hall - he already knew - he just said, 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor."

"D'you think he meant you to do it?" said Ron. "Sending you your father's cloak and everything?"

"Well," Hermione exploded, "if he did - I mean to say that's terrible - you could have been killed."

"No, it isn't," said Harry thoughtfully. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could..."

"Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," I said proudly. "Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course - you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you - but the food'll be good."

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

"You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT" she said firmly.

We all left saying goodbye to Harry and headed back to the Common Room.

* * *

The next night we all went down to the Great Hall and saved a seat for Harry. When he finally arrived the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table.

When Harry walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. He slipped into a seat between Ron and Hermione - Taylor and I were seated across from them - at the Gryffindor table and he tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at him.

Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived moments later. The babble died away.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts...

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. I could see Draco banging his goblet on the table. It was a sickening sight.

"Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little. Ha. Wait what?

"Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes...

"First - to Mr. Ronald Weasley..."

Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad sunburn.

"... for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"

At last there was silence again.

"Second - to Miss Hermione Granger... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Hermione buried her face in her arms; I strongly suspected she had burst into tears. Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves - they were a hundred points up.

"Third to Miss Lexi Dursley..." Said Dumbledore. "... For pure bravery and encouragement when her friends needed it most, I award Gryffindor house fifty points," I looked down at my empty plate, blushing.

"Fourth to Miss. Taylor..." Dumbledore started yet again. "... For staying behind when you were needed and going further might have been costly, I award Gryffindor house with, fifty points," I saw Taylor blushing like I was.

"Fifth - to Mr. Harry Potter... " said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet. "... for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points - exactly the same as Slytherin. We had tied for the house cup - if only Dumbledore had given Harry just one more point.

Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.

"There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Taylor and I stood up to yell and cheer as Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. He had never won so much as a point for Gryffindor before. Harry, still cheering, nudged Ron in the ribs and pointed at Draco, I followed their gaze to see he couldn't have looked more stunned and horrified if he'd just had the Body-Bind Curse put on him.

"Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, "we need a little change of decoration."

He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand, with a horrible, forced smile. He caught Harry's eye and Harry knew at once that Snape's feelings toward him hadn't changed one jot. It seemed as though life would be back to normal next year, or as normal as it ever was at Hogwarts.

It was the best evening of my life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls... I would never, ever forget tonight.

I had almost forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but come they did. To our great surprise, both Harry. Ron passed and I with good marks; Hermione and Taylor, of course, had the best grades of the first years. Even Neville scraped through, his good Herbology mark making up for his abysmal Potions one. We had hoped that Goyle, who was almost as stupid as he was mean, might be thrown out, but he had passed, too. It was a shame, but as Ron said, you couldn't have everything in life.

And suddenly, our wardrobes were empty, our trunks were packed, Neville's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take us down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; we were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as we sped past Muggle towns; pulling off our wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station.

It took quite a while for us all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.

"You must come and stay this summer," said Ron, "Taylor, Lexi, Harry and you Hermione - I'll send you an owl."

"Thanks," said Harry, "We'll need something to look forward to." People jostled us as we moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some called:

"Bye, Harry!"

"See you, Potter!"

"Still famous," said Ron, grinning at him.

"Not where I'm going, I promise you," said Harry.

We passed through the gateway together. "There he is, Mom, there he is, look!"

It was Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, but she wasn't pointing at Ron.

"Harry Potter!" she squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see-"

"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point."

Mrs. Weasley smiled down at us.

"Busy year?" she said.

"Very," said Harry. "Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley."

"Yeah, thanks Mrs. Weasley!" Taylor exclaimed.

"Oh, it was nothing, dears."

"Ready, are you?"

It was Dad, still purple-faced, still mustached, still looking furious at the nerve of us, carrying ows in cages and a cat in a cage, similar except longer, in a station full of ordinary people. Behind him stood Mum and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of us.

"You must be Harry, Lexi and Taylor's family!" said Mrs. Weasley.

"In a manner of speaking," said Uncle Vernon. "Hurry up, we haven't got all day." He walked away.

We hung back for a last word with Ron and Hermione.

"See you over the summer, then."

"Hope you have - er - a good holiday," said Hermione, looking uncertainly after Uncle Vernon, shocked that anyone could be so unpleasant.

"Oh, I will," said Harry and I, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over our faces. "They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. We're going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer..." We all laughed and said goodbye before hurrying off after Dad.

I couldn't wait to see what kind of adventures we would encounter year!

* * *

**The End**

* * *

**That's the end of the first book. I can't believe it, only 18 chapters. Wow! It's knid of depressing finishing it off. I can't believe it only took us 4 months and 4 days to finish. Well, that's it. See you in the next book!**


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